Until you lose the road
by Mizu-Tenshi
Summary: What is the difference between love and need? Misaki gets too involved with Haruhiko and Usami fears the worst. Yet when both brothers need him so much, can he choose between two men who are equally hopeless? Haruhiko/Misaki, Usami/Misaki
1. Be there

I've had this idea in my head for ages and finally the first chapter is up. I've been frustrated by the lack of Haruhiko in fic (Because Haruhiko is awesome and needs more love) and because I do love my non-canon I wanted to share this. Be warned; slight spoilers for volume eight.

* * *

**Chapter one**

**- Be there -**

XX

His clothes were already thrown into a small suitcase, the meagre essentials of all his worldly possession compactly pressed into that one case. Misaki gripped the handle with his gloved hand as he stood in the doorway of Akihiko's room, his heart pounding with trepidation.

His throat felt dry. Several times, he tried to speak, stuttered, and fell short. His hand tightened around the handle of his suitcase. It was dark outside.

"U – Um, Usagi - "

The sound of Akihiko's lighter snapping shut resounded in the silence, promptly cutting him off. Akihiko sat on the corner of his bed, his back turned to Misaki, who lingered by the door as if waiting for permission to leave.

It was dark outside. How had it become so dark so soon?

As the silence stretched through time and neither had moved from their stationary positions, Misaki finally found the strength to take a step back. His suitcase rolled across the floor, following at his heels.

How had it become so dark so soon? How had they come to this point? Why were they having this conversation, or lack thereof? How had it become so dark so soon?

"W – Well then," Misaki said softly, his voice fluttering to the ceiling to mingle with the smoke. "Like I said, dinner's in the fridge and I made food for the next day too. You've got everything you need, right? I'll be back soon...maybe."

Akihiko said nothing. Maybe he too was wondering just how it had become so dark so soon.

"I'm off," Misaki smiled gently, and with that turned around and made his way through the dark apartment, into the night's chill air.

As the wind hit his face, he cringed and pulled his scarf tighter, shrugging his aching shoulders. It looked like it would rain soon; or maybe even snow. Misaki remembered when it had snowed outside his house, underneath the streetlamp, which flickered on and off. He remembered when it had snowed and Akihiko had cried – and he had cried too – and the snow fell around them like soft balls of cotton wool, forever falling and freezing on the ground.

He remembered, with some embarrassment, moving in to the apartment and, with horror, the thousand-and-one perverted things he was subjected to each day. He remembered the aquarium and the Ferris wheel and how the words 'I love you' slipped and fell from his tongue.

'_It's alright. I love you.'_

What he did not remember was just how things had ended up with him walking as he was now, towards the sleek black car waiting for him.

Misaki slowed his pace as he tried to recall, to pin-point the exact moment; the one defining point in time when events had been set upon this course.

Ah, that was right. It had been then, hadn't it?

"_Don't ask me about these things, Usagi-san! I don't know. Blue, I guess."_

XX

"Blue?" Akihiko looked at the dress shirt and then smiled. "Well, if Misaki thinks so," he said, tossing the dark maroon one over the side of the couch.

Misaki struggled with his tie. Almost twenty years old and he still could not fix a tie properly. He frowned at it and tore it loose again, determined that, this time, he would conquer the art of the double knot.

"Here, let me," Akihiko, finishing with the buttons of his shirt, snaked his arms over Misaki's shoulder, catching him from behind. Taking advantage of Misaki's momentary shock, the gathered he ends in his hands, deftly making short work of the tie. His hands, however, finished with the knot and eased towards the half open shirt, sneaking his hands underneath the fabric.

"U – Usagi-san!" Misaki blushed and tried to look annoyed. "Jeez, it's already morning, Usagi-san!"

"In that case," his lips brushed against the shell of Misaki's ear, "are you saying I can do whatever I like in the evening?"

Misaki bristled. "Th – That's not what I'm saying at all! Don't go interpreting things the way you want to!" he struggled and broke free of Akihiko's grip.

"Then the afternoon."

"Listen to what people are saying!"

"Then morning."

"It's morning now!"

"So I can do whatever I want to you now?"

"That's not - " Misaki began, but the sound of the doorbell ringing cut his sentence short. "Ah, that's Aikawa-san!" He rushed to answer to door with relief.

Aikawa was dressed smarter than usual, in a tight red dress that had a slit almost all the way to the thigh. Her hair was gathered in curls and pinned into a French bun, though the odd lock or two of bright, copper-coloured hair fell behind her ears. She carried a book with her and, strangely, a Chinese fan hanging out of the side of her handbag.

"Ah, Misaki-kun! Sensei, are you ready yet?" she beamed, opening the fan with a flourish of her hand. "Ah, this heat wave is horrible!" she sighed. "My make up will melt if I stay in the sun too long."

"I don't see why I have to go," Akihiko, as adverse to social gatherings as always, grumbled while he shrugged on his jacket.

Aikawa looked at him with gentle chastisement. "Why not? This is part of your job too!"

"It's bothersome," he frowned.

"But Misaki-kun will be with you! Misaki-kun wants you to do your job properly, don't you?"

Misaki, who had been putting on his own jacket with a tinge of dread, suddenly started. "Eh? Err, well, yeah, I suppose," he lamely replied.

Akihiko looked at her as if to say; 'Using Misaki is low' but Aikawa fearlessly met his gaze with a triumphant smirk.

"Come on, Sensei! Work, work!" she ushered them both outside, into the searing heat of mid-July

It was quite possibly the worst heat-wave Misaki had ever experienced. Just stepping outside caused his tie to feel uncomfortably tight around his neck.

With more enthusiasm than usual, they hurried into Akihiko's car and turned the air-conditioning up to its highest setting. Aikawa leaned back against the cool leather with relish, lazily fanning herself and smiling with content. Misaki remembered how Akihiko looked at him in the rear-view mirror and asked him to roll down the windows at the back.

XX

White Jasmine Hotel was far larger and a thousand times more fanciful than anywhere Misaki had ever had the pleasure of staying at before. Every surface gleamed, and every door and lift came with a young man dressed in smart red suits to open them. Fountains and plants which seemed to belong in a tropical garden flourished; the reception area was a recreation of paradise.

"Whoa! This place is much bigger than that hotel we stayed in when you got your award!" Misaki cried, stupefied by the sheer dimensions of the halls. He rushed ahead like a bedazzled child, awed by the expensive paintings and furnishings decorating the wide hallway they walked down.

"Misaki, don't get lost," Akihiko called to him.

At his warning, Misaki turned around, pouting. "I'm not a kid, Usagi-san!" but this only caused Akihiko to smile and ruffle the hair he had spent the last hour impeccably trying to comb.

Upon entering the main hall, the loud blast of brass-band music hit them like a sack of bricks. It was loud and crowded; the kind of conditions Akihiko hated the most. Although he already had his 'business smile' plastered to his face, Misaki took note to watch him like a hawk for the slightest traces of annoyance that might slip past the facade.

He shared a glance with Aikawa, seemingly promising herself the same thing. They nodded at each other, sharing the mutual mission to keep their troublesome author out of any mess.

Yet despite the silent promise he had made to Aikawa, Misaki found himself being slowly separated from Akihiko by the lively tide of people passing this way and that. Once again, he found himself standing by the refreshments table, completely alone. These high class authors and poets and scriptwriters in their smart suits and beautiful dresses were all too unapproachable for him. It was as if they lived in a different world.

His eyes skimmed over the crowds as he gulped down fizzy grape juice with a passion. At one point, he almost thought he had seen Usami Haruhiko but that was impossible because -

A stream of purple spurted from his lips. Women in glittery dresses shot him horrified looks and hurried away.

Burning red, Misaki ducked around the other side of the table, his face conveniently hidden behind a five-tier cake of enormous proportions. There he poked his head around the side, just enough for him to get a good look at the back of Akihiko's brother.

What was he doing here? He wondered. As far as Misaki knew, he was not an author, poet or playwright, and he remembered Aikawa explicitly telling him that there would only be people from the literary field attending this party.

Never minding just what the man's business here was, Misaki leaned out a little further, trying to get a better look at the man.

He was currently talking to a woman. She was pretty. No, perhaps pretty was not quite the right word. Pretty was something little girls and young women were; this woman was no spring flower but she was beautiful in her own, mature way. There was an air of sophistication, of glamour, about her. She wore a white dress with fake blossom in her black hair. Although faint lines marked her eyes and around her mouth, she was lively enough to be a young girl and made avid gestures with her long, thin fingers as she talked.

"Misaki?"

"Ah! Usagi-san!"

The cake almost toppled when he jumped. Spinning around, his gaze met Akihiko's surprised face, though that expression quickly turned sour as Akihiko looked past him to his brother.

"Him!" he growled.

Misaki turned his attention to Haruhiko once more but, at some point, the woman had disappeared.

As though he could sense the venomous looks being showered upon him, Haruhiko happened to turn at the precise moment that Misaki stepped away from the cake. Their eyes met briefly and he began marching towards them.

Misaki's nerves spiked. He never knew what to say to Akihiko's brother or how to keep the peace between them but he was already coming their way and it was too late to run now.

"I thought you might be here," he spoke directly to Misaki, pointedly ignoring his brother, who smouldered with indignation.

Misaki felt Akihiko's hand grip his shoulder as if to claim ownership over him, though maybe it was simply protection. "What about you? Isn't this party for the debut of Mihara-sensei's new novel?" Akihiko's eyes narrowed, demanding to know just why he had to see his stupid brother when he had gone out of his way to attend this stupid party.

"Oh, you're here too," Haruhiko looked upon him with disdain.

"How have you been, Haruhiko-san?" Misaki asked, hoping that normal conversation could somehow induce the two brothers to be normal to each other. Or at least civil.

"You don't need to be polite to him," Akihiko said grudgingly.

"Fine," Haruhiko, ignoring his brother again, replied and the conversation screeched to a dead halt.

Five seconds of silence passed before Misaki had gathered himself enough to try again.

"Uh...so...that woman you were talking to was pretty. Like a mature beauty. I bet all women want to look like that when they get older," he spoke nervously, wondering whether he had chosen the right topic for conversation.

"That was Akihiko's mother."

He obviously had not.

"S – Seriously?!" he started, looking wildly at Akihiko for confirmation.

Haruhiko smiled faintly, though the light of his smile never reached his eyes. "Do you want to know what we talked about?"

"I'd rather not," Akihiko replied, and Misaki tried to ignore the waves of tension emitting from both sides.

They seemed, to Misaki's eyes, to be undergoing some strange form of non-verbal communication in which they conveyed their feelings of hatred and animosity towards each other by glaring into each other's eyes. Whoever the winner was, at length Akihiko gripped Misaki's hand, pulling him away from Haruhiko.

"U – Usagi-san? Wait, Usagi-san!" Misaki protested but he struggles were all futile. "Ah, it was nice meeting you again, Haruhiko-san!" he cried, glancing back at the silent man.

"Let's leave," Akihiko said as soon as they were far away from Haruhiko.

"What?"

"There's no point to this party. Let's leave."

Misaki frantically scanned the crowds for a sign of Aikawa. He could not abort the mission just like that! "Wait, you can't do that! Aikawa-san would be really mad, and besides you have to do things properly! You can't just go whenever you feel like it; people will be offended!" he cried.

"But I want to spend time with Misaki," Akihiko frowned, leading him into a relatively secluded corner of the room, partially hidden by the tall plants.

"You can spend time with me here!" he protested, slapping away the hand that went to grab his tie.

"_Alone _time with Misaki," he whispered.

"Usagi-san!" Misaki hissed as Akihiko intruded into his sphere of personal space. "Not here! People might see!"

Although, even he said those words, he was sure that they were too hidden and that everyone was too preoccupied by the party to really notice them. Even so, he was sure that Haruhiko was watching.

XX

Had Haruhiko been watching back then? He never really asked.

Misaki slipped into the backseat and shut the door, strapping himself in for the long ride. Isaka sat next to him, leaning back with a self-satisfied air, which made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Asahina, Isaka's secretary, was at the wheel, smiling faintly.

When he was asked if he had everything he needed, to which Misaki replied with a simple yes, the engine spluttered and they pulled out of the drive, making their way into the night streaked with blurring, burning lights.

* * *

And that's the end of chapter one. This is my first time trying this method. Basically, it's two timelines running at once; the current timeline and the one where Misaki recalls the past. However, I really like this style and I want to stick with it. So, good? No good?


	2. See you soon

No warnings that I can think of. Typos for the last chapter correct. This chapter may contain slight IsakaxAsahina, but only if you squint very, very hard.

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**Chapter two**

**- See you soon -**

XX

Misaki finally stepped outside the car, rather giddy with fatigue and doing his best to keep his eyes prised open in order to see the path in front of him. He could vaguely make out the shapes of Isaka and Asahina walking in front of him. Asahina had his suitcase, which rumbled over the concrete like the sound of distant thunder. Wearily, Misaki, trailed after them, into the blazing light streaming from the open door of Isaka's home.

Perhaps if he had had the energy he could have been more in awe of his surroundings. However, even if it was his first time seeing the man's house, the only thought occupying Misaki's mind was to find a comfortable corner where he could sleep.

"Well, here we are," Isaka proudly announced. He drew open the curtains to a flood of pale blue moonlight, which suddenly illuminated the room. A coffee table and couch were suddenly thrown out of hiding by the invasion, and it was upon the couch that Isaka suddenly threw himself down, propping his feet on top of the table with an air of authority.

Misaki remained standing, staring from the man, who was partially obscured by shadows, to the view outside the wide windows where the moon had been caught in the dead branches of a peach tree.

He did not want to be rude to his host but the man's smugness was annoying him a little. He wished that Isaka would stop smiling like that, as though he had expected this all along.

Turning so that his shadow was thrown onto the floor, with the streaming moonlight framing his back, he faced Isaka with a frown.

"I haven't lost, have I, Isaka-san?" A question posed more as a statement of fact, as innocent as it could possibly be.

"Oh?" the man's amused smile glinted in the darkness. "Leaving Akihiko's place - that's minus ten points to you."

Misaki opened his mouth to protest, to say something in his defence, but before he had the chance Asahina came down upon his boss with a book flat on top of his head.

"Will you stop? He's just a boy, and you're too old to be playing games," he chided, though his voice remained monotonously neutral.

"Asahina!" Isaka shot back a wounded glare.

"My apologies, Misaki-kun," Asahina bowed, coolly ignoring Isaka's complaints and threats of being fired.

"Asahina! Whose side are you on?" he grumbled, rubbing his sore head.

"This room has been prepared for you, Misaki-kun. Please come this way."

"Asahina!"

Without so much as a sideward glance at Isaka, Asahina courteously led Misaki into one of the adjoining rooms. Whilst Isaka continued to protest, the suitcase rumbled over his words and the shutting door cut off the rest of whatever it was he was going to say.

Misaki glanced around the wide yet bare room. If anything, the size merely emphasised its emptiness. Wooden floorboards had been scrubbed clean as if in preparation for his arrival, the mantle was dark and empty, bereft of the necessary wood for kindling a fire. Misaki made his way to the windows where a chair and a small, round table stood observing the moon.

"Thank you. I'm sorry for the trouble," he said, absently running a finger over the smooth curve of the chair's spine.

"Please don't pay any attention to Isaka-san. He may be a little rough but he doesn't mean any harm," Asahina deposited his suitcase near the foot of the double bed. He moved with calculated efficiency, yet his gestures were natural; though no energy was needlessly wasted in his actions, there was nothing robotic in these careful movements.

Misaki watched him with a hint of wonderment, admiring the way he seemed to move amongst his surroundings.

"Isaka-san is actually very kind, isn't he?" he smiled against the pale blue moonlight.

The first smile of the evening graced the man's lips. "Well, I wouldn't go that far..." he said, though Misaki could tell that he was slightly pleased to hear it. "Goodnight Misaki-kun," he retreated to the doorway, bowed, and silently slipped out.

"Thanks. Goodnight to you too, Asahina-san," he bowed as the door was shut, leaving him to his solitude.

Misaki pulled his suitcase open and quickly began to change into his night clothes. Although sleep was the first thing on his mind, he could not quell the nagging voices racing through his mind. Places, people, conversations, exchanges; they came in an unforgiving flurry or memories that would probably keep him from his much desired rest.

"_And you didn't punch him? I can't believe you talked for five minutes without one of you punching the other!" _Isaka's jovial voice rang through his head.

XX

"I wouldn't say that we 'talked'," Akihiko, flinging his tie over the chair, sighed with decreasing patience. The rest of his body soon followed the tie in falling on to the plush seat of the large armchair. Sighing again, he poured himself a drink.

Isaka paced around the room at his own leisure, soaking up the sight of the grand suite to his content, without a thought to the harsh glare, which was accompanying his progress around the room. "Oh, it was because the kid was there, right? Good, if you had caused a commotion I would have - "

"Isaka-san!" Misaki cried; trying to negotiate peace between the teasing Isaka and Akihiko's ever decreasing tolerance for the man. "Jeez, isn't that enough already, Isaka-san?"

"Oh? The kid is defending you. Isn't that sweet, Akihiko?"

"Isaka!" Akihiko snapped, rising to his feet with the intention of chasing him out of their room.

"Right, right," Isaka swiftly stepped back, holding his hands up innocently. He could tell that Akihiko's patience was at its end and it would be best for his jaw if he made his gracious exit whilst he could. Though not without his usual smirk, he cried; "Well, have fun! Oh, and remember to meet Aikawa tomorrow, you still have work to do!" and bowed out of the room.

Misaki collapsed on the couch, suddenly tired by the day's activities. The night, however, was still young, and Akihiko seemed intent on making him understand this by suddenly catching him by the waist and dragging him onto his lap.

"What? Already?" Misaki seemed to groan with a sense of irritation. "Come on, Usagi-san, we just got back! Aren't you tired?"

"I'm never too tired to do this to Misaki," he pressed his lips against Misaki's neck, trailing a series of light kisses in an arch from the base of the neck to the back of his ear.

"U – Usagi-san!" Misaki's feeble protests were thwarted by Akihiko's arm barring his chest and arms to his side whilst his other hand fiddled with his zipper. A blush coloured his cheeks at the closeness of their bodies; the warmth of Akihiko's chest, which seemed to be burning into his back. "I – Is it okay?" he asked

"Is what okay?" Confused, Akihiko's hand momentarily stopped.

"Your mother was at that party. Is it okay to not say anything to her? You might still catch her if she hasn't left yet," he mumbled. He had no idea why the picture of Akihiko's mother suddenly chose that moment to invade his thoughts but now that he had time to dwell on it, most people would at least say hello if they saw their own mother, right?

Akihiko's hands gave up the battle and lay limply against Miskai's thighs. "It's fine. I don't need to talk to her."

"Usagi-san!"

"It's fine," he insisted. His frown, however, soon gave way to a wicked smile, renewing his pursuit with twice as much energy as before. "Anyway, if you have time to worry about other people, maybe you should worry about yourself."

Before Misaki could protest he soon found himself pushed down onto his back and promptly stripped of most of his clothes. "U – Usagi-san!" he tried to keep at least his underwear from being stolen but Akihiko as relentless.

He knew how things would go from here.

XX

Just as predicted, morning rose and Misaki awoke to the grand task of freeing himself from underneath Akihiko's slumbering body. Squirming under an arm, he managed to wiggle from under the sheets without too much trouble.

Glaring at the clothes tossed haphazardly across the floor, he decided against cleaning them up for once and headed straight for the wardrobe in search of something clean to wear.

Food would be good at the moment. However, he was against ordering room service, though it would add just a minor blip on the bill of whoever was paying for their stay here, but even so it was good money and he could not knowingly waste someone's money on overly expensive food.

Glancing over his shoulder to where Akihiko slept, Misaki silently slid out of the room in search of cheaper fare. Well, he reasoned, he would hardly be gone for too long.

The search for a place to eat was not a difficult one. Searching for a reasonably priced place to eat in such a lavish hotel, however, proved to be much harder to achieve. As he inspected the rows of forks all of different sizes and, apparently, for different kinds of food, he felt a familiar black cloud of depression drawing over him. Damn rich people. Why was one kind of fork not good enough?

With several in his hand, he turned with a sigh, not looking where he was going as he bumped right into someone else.

Forks and spoons clattered to the floor, accompanied by the contents of a woman's handbag. The woman stumbled back a bit as tubes of lipstick and other bits and pieces rolled across the marble floor.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Misaki stuttered, falling onto his hands and knees to help her gather her things.

"Thank you. My, what a nice child you are!" he heard her laugh as he handed back her bag.

"I'm really very sorry, I - "

Misaki froze. It was that woman. He could recognise her instantly. Her hair had been curled this time and coiled into two tight buns and she wore a long red dress rather than white, but it was definitely that woman – Akihiko's mother.

"Is something wrong?" she tilted her head to one side questioningly. As she did so, a lock of dark hair fell over her brow, the end of its coil touching the very tip of her thin nose.

"Ah, no, sorry," he mumbled, aware but unable to stop himself from gawking at her.

"Well then, thank you for your assistance," she bowed, smiling benignly as she gracefully drifted away.

"Well, that was extremely clumsy."

Misaki almost jumped out of his skin as he spun around to meet the nonchalant expression currently residing on Haruhiko's face. With arms crossed over his chest, he leaned against the side of the wall, thoughtfully watching Misaki scramble for the dropped forks and spoons.

"You were watching?!" Misaki felt his cheeks burn red with shame all over again. "Don't you need to speak with her?"

"She's Akihiko's mother, not mine."

"But at the party..." he began.

"That was business."

"Ah."

Once again, conversation died. What the heck was he supposed to do now?

"Will you come with me?" Haruhiko suddenly asked, saving him from having to think about it.

"...O – Okay," he reluctantly agreed. He had had a bad experience with following people to strange places before, but what could he do? He could not simply refuse to go and, besides, Haruhiko was already marching back to his room, expecting Misaki to follow.

Dumping the cutlery to one side, he quickly hurried after him.

The room did not surprise him at all. Over the years, Misaki had grown somewhat accustomed to ridiculous displays of riches, although the lavishness still awed him from time to time. The vast and finely furnished room was something he had come to expect from the ridiculously rich and thus took a seat with a little more bearing than he would have a year or two ago, though he was sure he would never be able to completely get over it.

Haruhiko took a seat opposite and began pouring tea. Thankfully, there was no strawberry cake this time.

"I know it's been a while since we last met but if you keep popping up before me, I will begin to suspect that it's Fate," he said in what would have been considered a display of romance if those lines had not been delivered in such an utterly deadpan voice.

"Fate?" Misaki tried his best not to understand where the conversation was dangerously heading towards.

"My feelings haven't changed."

Misaki felt a shiver run down his spine. How could he say something like that so bluntly and with such a straight face? Was it an Usami family trait? He knew that he had to somehow put an end to this whole tirade but how was he supposed to deal with such a blunt confession?

Though he was sure that the corners of his mouth were twitching, he managed to pull it into a feeble sort of smile. "Um, Haruhiko-san, thank you. I really do appreciate it but - "

"Do you love him?" Haruhiko's sudden question interrupted him. How could he make an inquiry sound so much like a demand for answers? Misaki blinked, caught off-guard by the bluntness of it.

"I was just wondering if you were simply with my brother because he's the pushy type who doesn't like taking no for an answer," Haruhiko explained with an off-hand gesture towards nothing in particular.

Misaki's anger flared despite himself. With annoyance, he quickly rose to his feet. "Now look here! I - "

Whatever he was going to say, the words were drowned out by the sound of the room door bursting open. A tall woman in a long red dress rushed into the room.

"Haruhiko, sorry I'm late! Some _bratty _kid bumped into me and ruined my dress so - "

Misaki was not sure who recognised who first, or even if they seemed to notice each other at the same time. His bewildered stare was gently off-set by the mild surprise upon the face of Akihiko's mother.

Then what had happened?

It was too late, or perhaps too early, to remember.

XX

The morning sunlight warmed him to the world of the conscious. For a moment, as Misaki's eyes fluttered open, he had no recollection of where he was, but slowly his memory seeped back and he lifted his head with a groan.

If he had not known better, he would have believed that he was in a totally different room. What he might have once considered foreboding during the night was now warm and friendly. The vastness of the room suddenly seemed less bleak and more airy and peaceful; the furniture was no longer cold but took on an inviting honey-coloured hue.

"Good morning, kid!"

"I – Isaka-san!" He almost leapt straight out of bed but for the fact that Isaka had an arm place on the other side of him, leaning over his legs.

"Don't worry, I didn't do anything funny to you," he smirked.

"F – funny?" Misaki stuttered, slightly perturbed. If it had been Usagi-san...he thought.

But it was not Usagi-san, Misaki reminded himself with what could have been either disappointment or relief.

Isaka pushed a metal tray onto his lap. "Breakfast," he announced.

"You can cook?"

"Asahina made it," he gestured to the steaming tray of rice and salted fish. "But yes, I believe I can cook pretty well myself," he added.

Misaki tried his best not to show his shock. Did that guy sleep over or did he get up at an ungodly hour just to drive here and cook for them?

Whatever the situation was, he gratefully picked up his chopsticks and began to eat. The moment the first grain of rice touched his tongue, he almost stopped. It was not the taste that startled him but the sense of unusualness of eating someone else food. He had been cooking his meals for so long that he had grown accustomed to the taste of his own food.

"How is it? Good, right?" Isaka grinned.

Misaki nodded enthusiastically. "It's delicious. I'm sorry; I promise I'll help out with dinner tonight."

"Dinner?" Isaka laughed, slipping off of the bed with a sense of disbelief. "Don't tell me you're planning to stay here for that long?" he demanded.

His manner would have been considered rude but for the small smile that managed to slip onto his lips. Rummaging in his back pocket, his produced a small, silver key with a flourish.

"Haruhiko's keys."

"How - "

"Asking me why I'm giving you them; minus twenty points."

Misaki frowned. Determination surged within him. Forgetting breakfast, he snatched the key from the man's fingers.

He only wished that Isaka would stop smiling like that, as though he had expected this all along.

* * *

Thanks for reading this far. Things will start to make more sense as the timelines converge, though I do think of Misaki as a very loyal person so I believe he has a good reason for everything he does. (Most of the time)


	3. Step one

Well, the term is over for me and I'm looking forward to going home. It's holiday time, so Merry Christmas in advance to everyone!

* * *

**Chapter three**

**- Step one - **

XX

"Sorry for the intrusion!" Misaki called as he slipped the key into the lock and entered the large penthouse, which, after closing the door behind him, turned out to be as empty as it was silent.

He glanced around furtively but could see no signs of life. Though the house was of a more western, modern design, Misaki left his shoes by the front mat next to his suitcase.

"Haruhiko-san? Did Isaka-san tell you that I would be coming? Haruhiko-san?"

He wandered his way down the empty corridor, carefully inhaling the distinct smell of fresh paint. There were two doors on both sides but he chose to ignore them in favour of a slightly ajar mahogany door at the very end of the corridor.

"Haru - "

Upon seeing the man he had been searching for, Misaki fell silent. If Haruhiko had heard his noisy entrance, he made no indication of it. The walls were newly painted egg-blue, the wide pine floors polished and empty. There was no furniture, no possessions; no signs of inhabitation other than the stacks of cardboard boxes stashed away in the corner.

Haruhiko sat on the window seat in front of a pair of large French windows which gave a view of the hectic street below. His back was turned to him but, as Misaki stepped in, his toe touched the head of Haruhiko's shadow.

Misaki paused to look at it as though he would somehow be stepping on the real thing if he stepped on the shadow. Glancing at man by the window, then at the bareness of the room, he could not help but feel a little overwhelmed.

The room resounded with emptiness and solitude yet it did not feel wholly unpleasant; it was like living in a picture book, only seeing the real world outside the enormous windows. It felt as if he could stay here forever, watching the world go by without ever engaging with it again. This room with its wide walls and expansive floors was loneliness. This room with the traces of human life bundled and forgotten in cardboard boxes was peace.

Sliding towards the window, Misaki successfully stole upon the window seat and carefully eased himself next to Haruhiko's place on the very end.

"It's a nice view, isn't it?" he smiled at the hustle and bustle below. The stillness of the room was a stark contrast to the distant roar of cars, the patter of feet, and flying birds fluttering away as a child ran towards them, shrieking with delight.

Haruhiko remained with his gaze glued upon the people below. "Yes, it is," he murmured and pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose. "I'm surprised though. I didn't think that you would come."

Misaki closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The room smelt like a Spring that was long gone, or a Spring that would never come. "Isaka-san is forcing me to compete, and besides, I did promise you," he said, a little defensively.

They said no more to further their brief exchange, yet their conversation did not end abruptly as it usually did when Misaki talked to Haruhiko. They remained in silence, sitting close enough to almost brush shoulders, yet completely alone.

"_Haruhiko?"_

XX

"Oh? Ah, you're that boy."

Misaki 's cheeks bruned. "I'm sorry for ruining your dress," he awkwardly apologised, wishing that the ground would cave in and eat him up at that very moment.

"Oh," the woman seemed a little deflated. At the very least, she had the decency to look ashamed. A childish blush coloured her cheeks, making her appear far younger than she was; like a child caught stealing sweets. "Well, it happens." Turning to Haruhiko, she asked; "Are you two...acquaintances?"

"He's the boy father told you about," Haruhiko frowned at her.

"Takahashi Misaki. Pleased to meet you," Rising to his feet, Misaki offered her his hand, which she looked at but did not take.

"Oh? You're that boy my husband mentioned? The one living with Akihiko?" she shrugged her shawl closer to her shoulder with nervous apprehension. Her actions caused Misaki to briefly wonder if she would be affected by the 'Usamones.' Probably not, he noted with relief, since she had married into the Usami name.

"Y – Yes. Usagi-san is very kind; he's always very nice to me," he smiled uneasily.

The woman's eyes narrowed with a glint of scepticism. "That's surprising. I didn't think Akihiko was capable of living with anyone else," she muttered. Perhaps it was merely his imagination, but she sounded slightly upset by this.

"Usagi-san is really good to me!" Misaki insisted, trying to remain polite.

The woman's pealing laughter was much louder and girlish than he would have imagined. "Oh, he's a sweetheart, sure," she smiled, though Misaki could never tell how sincere she was in her smiles. "But he can be pretty unreasonable. He's always doing things at his own pace with hardly any consideration for others and he can hardly look after himself as it is."

"I think Usagi-san is much better than that!"

"You're very sweet," she smiled. It seemed she would have liked to stretch her hand out and ruffle his hair like a dog but she refrained from moving. "In that case, since you live with Akihiko, what's your relationship with Haruhiko? Those two hate each other, I can't imagine how you would ever have become acquainted with both," she continued with a look of mild curiosity, as though she would not mind knowing but did not really care if she got an answer or not.

"Natsuko-san," Haruhiko, with a hint of weariness, sighed.

The woman's smile became exuberant. There was a certain energy about her that betrayed her age. "By the way, Haruhiko, have you given any thought to that architecture project?"

Why, Misaki wondered, did she phrase her questions as though she were teasing him?

If Natsuko was the embodiment of energy and vitality, Haruhiko matched with dead stillness. Every word he said, every tiny movement seemed heavy and weighted with precision.

"I'm sorry but I will have to decline," he bowed his head solemnly, his perpetual frown only deepening when she smiled at him.

"I thought you would say that much."

Haruhiko placed a hand on Misaki's shoulder, which caused the boy to look up questioningly, but Haruhiko's eyes were firmly fixed on Natsuko's face. "Would you excuse us please? I will be back shortly," he said curtly and swiftly drove Misaki out of the room before she could protest.

XX

They had not managed more than a few steps before Misaki felt the urge to say something. He hated those awkward silences between anyone, least of all between himself and Haruhiko since those particular silences seemed more heavily weighted than any other.

"Is Usagi-san's mother into architecture? That's amazing! Didn't you tell me that you wanted to start work in architecture before?"

"Not with her, I don't," Haruhiko spoke brusquely, dictating the pace with his long strides.

"But she's your step-mother," Misaki frowned. Haruhiko looked at him sharply, causing Misaki to jump a little. "Ah, I'm sorry, I've said too much, haven't I? That was out of line!"

"I don't...dislike that woman," he admitted, though with reluctance.

"S - She seems...nice," Misaki observed passively, wishing that they could quickly get off of the topic of Akihiko's mother and kicking himself for ever bringing her up.

Haruhiko watched him doubtfully. "...If that's what you think."

"Well, it's true we only just met but..." Misaki paused as a bolt of lightning struck. "Wh – what about _your _mother, Haruhiko-san? I'm sure she must be very beautiful too," he asked, a little too enthusiastically, in a last ditch attempt to free himself from the pit that was Natsuko.

"My mother died a while ago," Haruhiko replied without a shred of emotion, though the slight flinch in his expression betrayed his utterly dead-pan voice.

Misaki felt deflated. He had jumped out of the oven and into the freezer. "...I'm sorry. It must have been lonely."

For the first time since their meeting, a look of surprise graced Haruhiko's face. "Lonely?" He echoed, as though he did not understand that word.

Misaki shrugged, embarrassed. "Well, after my parents died I was very lonely. Even though I had my brother, sometimes it felt really, really lonely so I can only imagine what it must be like for you. Ah, but Usagi-san was with you too, right?"

The thought of his brother triggered something within him. Before Misaki knew what was happening, let alone how to react, he found himself pushed against the wall, trapped between Haruhiko's arms pressed against the wall on either side of him.

"H – Haruhiko-san? Haruhiko-san?" he tried to discern the man's thoughts but Haruhiko's expression was completely closed to him. Assuming that he must have said something wrong, Misaki began wildly apologising. "I – I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said anything. I'm really sorry!"

Haruhiko shook his head. "N – No, it's not you that I'm angry at. Not really." He breathed deeply, gathering his composure, and slowly released Misaki from the wall.

"Haruhiko-san?" Misaki stretched out a comforting hand to catch the man's arm. However, before his fingers could brush against the dark fabric of his shirt, he suddenly found himself pulled away, almost toppling into Akihiko's chest.

"What are you trying to do to Misaki?" he demanded, his irritation multiplied to the nth degree by the fact that it was still fairly early.

"Usagi-san!" Misaki gasped but Akihiko's attention was wholly focused on his older brother.

"Up to your usual tricks again, brother?" Akihiko glowered at him.

"Usagi-san! Let's not start anything here!" Misaki pulled at his arm in vain. "Come on, Usagi-san! Usagi-san!"

"I'll say this once; keep your hands off of Misaki!" he cried, placing a protective hand on Misaki's shoulder. "I let you take everything else that you wanted but Misaki is the one thing I will not let you have!"

Haruhiko was coolly unfazed by his brother's anger. Calmly, he readjusted his skewed glasses. "You let me take what was yours?" he said lightly. "You always say that, always acting as if you were the victim in everything! What about the things that _you_ took from _me_?"

Only then did he allow a trace of anger to slip into his tone. However, it was hardly noticeable as the door no more than a few feet away burst upon and Akihiko's mother came rushing down the hallway.

"What's going on? Haruhiko? Akihiko?" she looked worriedly from one irritated face to the other. "Honestly, you two are such children. Have you no shame; arguing out here where anyone can just walk by and see you?"

Her demands were met by the defiant, petulant air of the two brothers. Sighing, she began again in amore level tone.

"Haruhiko, may I presume that your declining of my invitation has something to do with your dislike of me?"

"Haruhiko-san -" Misaki made a feeble attempt to defend the man, but Natsuko unwittingly cut through him.

"How childish," she clicked her tongue irritably. "I don't know how your father raised you. Both of you are so selfish, never considering my feelings in anything!"

"Wait."

Once again, Misaki's soft protests drifted by unheard.

"Honestly, do neither of you think about how other people feel when you - "

"Wait a minute!" Misaki cried, finally garnering the attention of the entire family at present. "Uh...well, I...well, I realise I don't really have the right to say anything..." he fumbled, sweating nervously under the immense pressure of all three gazes. It felt as if they were looming over him, waiting to pass judgement on whatever he said next. The Usami family was truly terrifying.

"Y - You talk about your feelings but what about theirs? You say that you don't know how their father raised them? I don't know about Haruhiko-san, but Usagi-san is your son. P - Please don't talk as if he's got nothing to do with you!"

Natsuko bit her lip to fight back a quick retort. Her eyes wavered, fighting between her own reason, her inclination to understand what he was saying, and a childish desire to never admit being wrong.

Before she could come to a conclusion about which side to take, Misaki felt Akihiko grip his hand.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, _mother,_" he said tautly and turned on his heel, dragging Misaki in tow

Misaki, however, glanced back as he was pulled away. As much as Akihiko's mother unnerved him, he found that he could not bring himself to hate her. In that moment; watching them go with the lost, forlorn look of a child, she seemed so tragic and so very sad.

XX

Misaki's eyes fluttered upon as patterns of slight played across his face. That was strange. When had he fallen asleep?

Haruhiko was already gone. He glanced around but found no traces of the man. Getting to his feet, a heavy blanket suddenly fell to the floor with a muffled_ whump_.

The sound of it hitting the floor suddenly struck him with such giddy nostalgia that, for a moment, he could not shift an inch.

Slowly, as though forcing each muscle in his body to move, Misaki bent down to retrieve the blanket. He stared at it, its dark green stitches almost hidden in the cotton, and raised it to his face.

"...Usagi-san," he murmured as he breathed in, but it was _not_ Akihiko's scent that filled his lungs.

* * *

Thanks for reading Ah, and before I forget. Spoilers for volume 8 was in reference to the aquarium and Ferris wheel events, not Usami's mother, who has been mentioned but has never actually appeared yet. Knowing me and my weakness for the Usami family, I' know I'll end up sympathising with her.

Isaka's bet will be explained next chapter. Probably. Please look forward to it!


	4. New beginnings

Sorry for the long wait. Some people have been asking me whether the end will be Usami/Misaki or Haruhiko/Misaki. My answer is; it's a secret! Seriously, if I tell you, it would ruin the surprise.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**- New beginnings -**

XX

Misaki did not have much time to chase the sleep from his eyes before he sensed Haruhiko's looming presence drawing near. Hastily, he rubbed at his lids and straightened himself, preparing a smile to greet him.

"Should I have carried you to bed?" Haruhiko asked in the same, direct manner which always seemed to slice their conversations in two.

Misaki laughed nervously. He did not want to admit that, when Haruhiko had mention the word 'bed,' his mind had conjured up images a little more perverted than what Haruhiko was probably implying – a fault he probably contracted after staying with Akihiko for so long.

"No, but thank you for this," he lifted up the heavy blanket. "Usagi-san probably would have dragged me to bed but Haruhiko-san's way of doing things is nice too."

He realised that he had probably offended Haruhiko a little too late. If the slight frown pressed to the man's lips was any indication, it was probably better if Misaki never mention Akihiko whilst he was staying here. The thought caused him in turn to frown as well. He knew more than anyone how unreasonable Akihiko could be but there were plenty of good things about him, which outweighed the bad. If only Haruhiko could see that too. Honestly, why was he straddled with two block-headed brothers to care for?

No, Misaki corrected himself. He was caring for Haruhiko first.

"Um...Haruhiko-san," he began, "I really still can't understand why you hate Usagi-san so much. I mean, of course he can't cook or clean and he only works when he wants to, he does all sorts of perverted things, and he drags people around as if he owns them but..." he trailed away as Haruhiko's frown intensified.

Akihiko definitely used to drag Misaki around before. No matter how many times he protested, it always seemed as if he was being carted off somewhere.

_Slow down, Usagi-san!_

XX

"Slow down! I keep telling you not to drag me around, Usagi-san!"

"And I keep telling you to stay away from that guy!" Akihiko shot back as he pulled Misaki through the halls, away from his silent stare of his brother and the perceptive gaze of his mother.

Misaki struggled in vain but his mind was too preoccupied with thoughts to put any effort into really resisting. Images of Natsuko's forlorn expression as they left, of Haruhiko's earlier anger, kept running through his head.

"It's not like I wanted to be there!" he protested as he tried to smother those memories. "I – I mean, it's none of my business but - "

"If it's none of your business then don't get involved!" Akihiko snapped back, causing Misaki to flinch.

He could tell the man was in a bad mood. The waves of death seemed to just roll off of him into the air, crippling all that it touched. Misaki shied as far away from him as physically possible, wilting under Akihiko's cutting stare. What could he say to restore the good mood? Was there anything he could do to save himself from a very unhappy Usami?

Fortunately, his salvation was quick to arrive, though in the unexpected form of Isaka's oblivious good cheer.

"Oh, what's this? A lover's quarrel?" he injected his presence right through the middle of them, throwing their argument aside.

Isaka's presence did nothing to quell Akihiko's anger but Misaki was grateful for the extra support, even if it was only as a second target for the wrath of Akihiko.

"L – Lovers?" Misaki stuttered but Isaka simply patted him on the back. His cheerfulness was almost obscene, something Isaka was probably deliberately trying to do.

"Come on you two, there are still many parties to attend. You didn't forget that you have a book signing to do?" Isaka clapped his hands together as though he were rounding up kindergarten kids after playtime.

Akihiko's eyebrow twitched. Nevertheless, he reluctantly submitted to his duties and began to makes his way to the main hall where the event would take place.

Misaki felt a surge of guilt overwhelmed him. He could not leave things like this; with Akihiko in a bad mood and so gloomy. "U – Usagi-san!" he grabbed the cuff of his shirt sleeve. Akihiko turned to face him but, when suddenly confronted with him, he found that the words were failing him. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. All he could manage was a weak; "Um...do your best!"

Akihiko silently nodded and withdrew, leaving him to kick himself for his lack of confidence. Why was it so hard to say such simple words? He could never manage a quick 'I love you' without working himself up first and he was never able to say the things he really wanted. Were words really that hard?

"Heavy..." he muttered. The words were heavy. He would always drop them on his toes as he struggled to string them into sentences that meant something, sentences that mattered.

Misaki sighed as Isaka slung an arm around his shoulder. "So, what were you fighting about?" he asked curiously.

"Isaka-san is enjoying this, isn't he?" Misaki muttered, pouting slightly.

"I never knew you thought so badly of me!" Isaka cried out with an expression of mock hurt. "Believe me, between those two I know how hard the Usami's are to deal with. I know, I know what you're going to say, but don't forget that you're only human too, and there's only so much one human can take."

"I'm not under any pressure at all!" Misaki insisted "Usagi-san has always been very kind to me. It's only natural that I want to help him, right? I'm not a little kid that will start running away when things get tough!"

"And Haruhiko? One Usami is a handful but two?" Isaka had a strange look of amusement on his face, a look which seemed to suggest just how ridiculous the very thought of it was.

For some reason, his way of thinking offended Misaki. It was as if he was making a comment about their character, a comment which Misaki did not like.

"Of course!" he cried without thinking. "Haruhiko-san and Usagi-san are...strange...but they're not bad people, and I - "

"Okay, okay, I get it. Misaki-kun is kind," Isaka halted him before he could lose himself in a flustered rant. Perhaps it was only Misaki's imagination, but his expression appeared to soften at this. "However, if you're too kind it will only mean trouble for you."

Misaki fell silent

"Well then, let's make a game of it,"

"A game?" Misaki lifted his head, curious, though also wary of any kind of 'game' Isaka would suggest playing with him. He had not forgotten that time the man had tricked both Akihiko and himself into attending the Kikukawa book awards.

"Like a bet," Isaka explained, waving his hands around in an odd gesture, as if that would clarify things. "I'm interested to see how you'll cope. Oh, and I am rooting for you so don't get the wrong idea," he added just as Misaki's expression began to sour. "I know that Akihiko didn't have much of a childhood but that guy...Haruhiko, he's been alone for a long time too."

If not for the thoughtful expression, which washed over Isaka's face, Misaki would have dismissed the idea of the 'game' as Isaka's queer sense of fun. However, the pensive look, which unwittingly took over, suggested something far deeper than Misaki would have ever guessed. Though Isaka had explained things in light terms, it seemed much more important to him than the prospect of playing a mere game would suggest.

Before he could question him, however, Isaka was back to his usually, offensively blithe self. He turned and clapped a hand firmly on Misaki's shoulders, grinning like the Cheshire cat, with some mischievous thought no doubt running in his mind.

"I'll be cheering for you, Chibi-tan! And if you lose...well, that will be the end, won't it?"

At the time, Misaki did not fully comprehend the gravity of those words.

Isaka settled back against the wall. "You know, I am worried that Usami-san, Haruhiko's father I mean, might pressure Haruhiko to work with Natsuko-san," he sighed and shook his head as if to say; 'what a bother!'

"You mean on the architecture project?" Misaki asked, wondering why Isaka was speaking to him about such subjects so openly.

"So you've heard of it," he smiled. "Haruhiko's always taken care of the Usami Group affair and, if it's an order from his boss, I'm sure he'll go along quietly."

"That's - " he began to protest. "That's not fair! I mean, it's good that Haruhiko-san is responsible and reasonable but shouldn't he also be allowed to do what he wants sometimes!" he cried, hardly believing the words he was saying. Haruhiko? Reasonable? The Usami name should have been in the dictionary right next to the very opposite of reasonable.

"I'm sure he's grateful for your feelings, right Haruhiko?" Isaka turned to smile just as the man in question appeared behind them from seemingly nowhere.

"H – H – Haruhiko-san!" Misaki squeaked, his voice pitching at an embarrassingly high note.

He wished he could dig a hole in the floor and hide for the rest of eternity. His cheeks burned bright red at the very thought of Haruhiko standing there, listening to their embarrassing conversation.

The man in question looked unamused, though his stern expression was thankfully for his friend only.

"You talk too much, Isaka," he said humourlessly, staring at him with the same critical expression he bestowed upon everyone.

Isaka laughed nervously, quickly averting his eyes. "Oh, is that Asahina calling me? Yes, I believe he needs me for something. See you!"

"Isaka-san!" Misaki made to catch him by the sleeve but he managed to slip from his grip at the very last second. "How cheap!" Misaki hissed under his breath, watching Isaka run to the safety of his assistant.

"You," Haruhiko's voice made him jump. "Do you really feel that way?"

Turning back to face the man with a sense of dread, Misaki stretched a fake, quivering smile across his lips. "W – Well, I..."

"That's stupid," he replied before receiving an answer. "You rejected me once, didn't you? If you're not interested, why are you bothering with me? Or is it because of Akihiko?"

Misaki looked at him sharply, slightly offended by what Haruhiko seemed to be implying. His hands curled into fists as if he planned on fighting off the accusation tooth and nail.

"Th – That's not it at all!" he shouted, unaware that h had caught the attention of several passer-bys. "Haruhiko-san is Haruhiko-san! It's got nothing to do with your brother! And what's wrong with worrying about someone even if you're not interested in them in that way? Haruhiko-san isn't a bad person, that's why!"

He had said it. No, he had shouted it out loud and even gained himself an audience in the process. Misaki felt all his confidence deflate in an instant. Was this worse than that time he had called Haruhiko n idiot? No, surely not. At least had had said something positive this time, even if it had been delivered in a pissed-off manner.

Misaki was ready to work himself into a fluster, but the descent of Haruhiko's hand onto the top of his head pressed the off switch to all his bodily functions. He even thought that he had stopped breathing in that brief moment of contact.

Haruhiko's hand quickly slid off and Misaki drew a deep gasp of breath.

"You're really kind, aren't you?" Haruhiko sighed. He looked almost pensive as he spoke. "Be careful, try not to be too kind or you might regret it."

His words echoed Isaka's too closely for Misaki to ignore. He looked at Haruhiko carefully, trying to search the man's gaze for some hint of what he was thinking.

"Why does everyone say that?" he demanded, feeling slightly los. Everyone seemed to be talking over his head, alluding to things that he did not understand. "What's wrong with being kind? If you ever really, really needed me, I would - "

"You would what?" Haruhiko interrupted, his sternness returning to him once more. "Leave Akihiko?" he asked "Sleep with me?"

"N – No!" Misaki furiously blushed at the thought of even sharing a bed with him. Worst of all, he could not betray Akihiko like that. "B – But I would do everything I could to help you too," he insisted.

"You would promise me that?" Haruhiko asked, though his attitude implied that he did not hold the faintest belief that Misaki would indeed make a promise with him.

It was hopeless. Everything seemed to be riling his nerves today. Somewhere, the rational part of him said to leave quietly and cool his thoughts but Misaki felt too caught up in a flood of different feelings to care what his rational, sensible side might be trying to say.

"...I - I promise you!" he cried.

XX

What had he been thinking, Misaki sighed, when he had made that promise? He did not exactly regret it, he wanted to do everything he could to help the people around him but sometimes even he had to admit that he should have thought more about the things he said.

"What are you thinking about? Are you thinking about my brother?"

"N – No! Not really," Misaki adamantly shook his head, hoping Haruhiko could not detect his lie.

However, Haruhiko's attention was stolen by the long stretch of flooring from the window to the door, which may have been insulting in itself as Misaki did not think that the floor was particularly interesting. Though Haruhiko stared at the polished wood, his thoughts were obviously elsewhere. Misaki had come to see it more and more often, a pensive, brooding look that would shadow his face. He wished that the man would just smile.

"You know, if it's too much trouble - "

"It's not!" Misaki was quick to leap in. There was more than Isaka's simple bet on his mind, more than the promise he had hastily made to Haruhiko so long ago, something much more important and urgent pressed him.

Haruhiko turned to look at him, smiling slightly, but Misaki could not approve of such a half-hearted smile. "You're strong, aren't you?" he phrased the question as if he was making an observation, but still that pitiful look remained.

"...Not really," Misaki turned his head away, blushing and twiddling with his fingers. "It's just that Usagi-san, Haruhiko-san...when I see people like you who are so kind but so hopeless, I get this feeling like I can't leave you alone. I don't know. It's sort of stupid really."

He thought perhaps a dismissive laugh would be best to dispel the tense situation. However, before he could work up something convincing enough, he felt Haruhiko's hand turning him back to face him, tilting his chin up a little. Before he could react, Haruhiko's lips were pressed against his, gentler than Misaki would have imagined but with the same kind of urgency as he had experienced the last time Haruhiko had forced a kiss upon him.

As his initial shock faded and the strength came back to him, Misaki found his resistance was melting. He closed his eyes and leaned in.

* * *

It was bound to happen! I can't remember if they ever kissed in the anime but they certainly did in the manga, which is what Misaki is referring to in his thoughts. Thanks for reading. Next chapter will be up soon!


	5. What we all want

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Answering some questions from the previous chapter; Haruhiko kissed Misaki in...Volume 8, I believe, the one where he's locked up with Haruhiko and Haruhiko sort of forces himself onto him.

This chapter contains references to the drama CD where Misaki makes an omelette for Takahiro. This chapter also starts of straight in the past instead of the usual structure of present – past – present but hopefully that should be obvious.

* * *

**Chapter five**

**- What we all want -**

XX

"Thank God that's over!" Akihiko sighed, throwing his tie over the back of the couch. Once the top buttons of his shirt were loosened, he wasted no time in approaching Misaki, who was also busy undoing his shirt and tie.

"What is it Usagi-san? Are you hungry already?" he asked, sensing his sudden presence looming over him in a distinctly menacing and – if he dared to say it – perverted way.

"Misaki," Akihiko wrapped his arms around him. "I want Misaki for dinner."

"I'm not on the menu!" Misaki snapped, struggling in vain against the tight grip he knew he could not break free from.

Akihiko kissed his neck, licking and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Misaki shivered with barely contained pleasure. Akihiko's hands travelled towards Misak' belt, beginning his work there, however no matter how Akihiko nipped and sucked Misaki's mind continued to drift away to thoughts of the hotel they had left and the people he had met.

"Usagi-san...you were cute as a kid, weren't you?"

"What?" Akihiko stopped, somewhat startled by the sudden interest.

Misaki's cheeks burned bright red. To reveal his thoughts and uncertainties to Akihiko seemed too embarrassing for him to handle. "...I - It's just that when we were at the hotel, there was Isaka-san and Haruhiko-san and even Nii-chan knows about your childhood but I..."

"Are you worried about that again?" Akihiko almost laughed. "Don't worry, I wasn't as cute as you were," he nipped Misaki's ear as if fully intent on fulfilling his promise to 'eat' him.

"That reminds me! Stop asking Nii-chan to send you baby picture of me! It's creepy!" Misaki swatted him away angrily.

"But don't you want to see pictures of _me _when I was a kid?" he asked, his smile widening as Misaki paused to consider it. "See, Misaki is a pervert too."

"Who's the pervert? You gay old man!"

"Impudent brat," Akihiko countered, though with loving strokes to his head. Misaki thought about protesting that he was not a dog or some kind of pet but his thoughts were stolen

"Eggs."

"What?" This time, Akihiko looked bewildered. Had Misaki hit his head? Was that the reason the boy would suddenly cry out random words with seemingly no connection to one another?

Misaki looked as though he wished for nothing more than the ground to swallow him before Akihiko could. However, to his credit, he managed to string a reasonable intelligible sentence together. "Why do you like eggs so much, Usgai-san? It's weird."

Akihiko could not help but chuckle. Of all the things he could have asked, Misaki wanted to know about the...eggs?

"I used to hate them because Hiroki told me about this time his mother cracked open an egg and there was a dead chick inside, stupid Hiroki – ah, he was one of my childhood friends," he obligingly explained. Misaki looked up, listening attentively. "But it was winter...." he continued, "and..."

"And?" Misaki unwittingly leaned closer in anticipation.

"And...well..." Akihiko frowned, trying to remember.

"And?"

"And...they were just so _yellow_."

Misaki would have fallen on his face if not for the arms holding him. "What kind of reason is that?" he screeched. Honestly, was he being made fun of? "You know, the first time I tried to cook eggs I made a real mess and it came out all burnt. Nii-chan was really angry at me but an hour later he rushed up to my room and suddenly told me he was sorry and started hugging me. It was weird."

"Ah, I think Takahiro told me that one too. He was sorry because you put in so much effort for him and he just yelled at you. The eggs tasted horrible though."

"I was only a kid!" Misaki snapped, but the memory of his first attempt at cooking, the way his brother had hugged him so tightly it had almost hurt, made him wonder if Akihiko had been lucky enough to have such memories too. "Usagi-san, don't you have any good memories like that with your brother?" he asked.

"Not again!" Akihiko sighed, releasing him of his own accord so that the boy stumbled back a little, almost falling over the couch.

"What?" Misaki took up defensive position, which entirely consisted of him backing away and tensing his shoulders.

"Don't bring up that guy now!" Akihiko frowned.

Though usually his bad mood would have been enough to keep Misaki silent for the rest of the week, for some reason, either a sudden lack of sense or an astonishing amount of sympathy for Haruhiko, he continued to persist his point. "But I feel sorry for him. Brothers should get along, right? Otherwise, it's - "

"Don't force your opinions on me!"

The sharpness of Akihiko's tone had stung. Misaki quivered with the look of an ashamed child. No, Akihiko was the child here; always being so unreasonable, always so quick to turn to jealousy and possessiveness. Misaki bit back and apology and replaced it with a n angry retort.

"Usagi-san doesn't have to shout, I'm right here!" he also lifted his voice, fingers curling into a clenched fist.

"Misaki!" Akihiko reached for his wrist but Misaki quickly pulled away, careful to keep his distance.

"I'm sleeping in my own room!"

"Misaki!"

"Good night!"

Slamming the door shut, he flung himself onto his bed and wriggled under the covers, pulling them all the way over his head until he had created a cocoon of cloth around him. His mind spun with angry thoughts and regrets. Was he really being too nosey when he had asked those questions? It really was none of his business after all but there was no need for all that shouting!

"Stupid Usagi-san!" he muttered to himself before closing his eyes.

Misaki was not sure how long he had been asleep but it was still dark outside his window. At some point during the night, the blanket had slipped off of his face, exposing it to the moonlight drifting in.

Something shifted in his bed. He drew a sharp breath but almost immediately relaxed when he realised that it was not an alien or a monster or Suzuki-san coming alive at night.

Akihiko carefully slipped beneath the covers – when had he entered the room? – and twisted around so that he could wrap his arms around Misaki's waist. Misaki could feel the slight coolness of his hands through the thinness of his shirt. He made no attempt to return the embrace but he did not bother to pretend that he was asleep either. Sighing softly, he edged closer to Akihiko's chest, feeling the embrace around him tighten. Neither spoke a word yet, somehow, they drifted to sleep together.

XX

The building site on his normal route to university was not a place Misaki ever paid much attention to in passing. He had a vague idea of what they were building there but that was all, which was why he had absolutely no idea why, when passing it on his way back home, his eyes came to rest on the six-petal sakura print of the Usami Group company logo.

Misaki froze in his tracks.

Usami Group. Building. Architecture. All the pieces were about to form themselves in his head when the appearance of none other than Usami Haruhiko wiped his mind completely clear.

"H - Haruhiko-san?" Misaki did his best to smile. "So you are working with Natsuko-san after all."

Haruhiko's expression could have rivalled Akihiko's 'waves of doom' at any time. He looked worn and ragged, his tie was slightly skewed and his hair had been hastily combed back.

"Honestly, are they trying to destroy my love of architecture?" he grumbled.

"I think it's amazing though. You've already done this much?" Misaki, trying to be positive, looked in awe at the tall scaffolding.

Haruhiko opened his mouth to reply, and would probably have made some remark for once, if Natsuko had not suddenly approached them. "Ah...Mitsuki-kun," she smiled cheerfully. Apparently, their less than wonderful meeting at the hotel was of no consequence to her.

"It's Misaki," he corrected her.

"Oh, right, Misaki-kun," she smiled, embarrassed. Even in a woman's business suit, she maintained that air of grace and mature charm, which had marked her from the other ladies at the hotel party. "How is Akihiko? I really wish he was more hard working like Haruhiko. Maybe I spoilt the child," she sighed. Haruhiko stiffened upon the mention of his name.

"Usagi-san works very hard on his novels," Misaki protested, unaware of the sour look that passed across Haruhiko's face when he defended Akihiko.

"Well, I've never seen it. He always – Ah, honey!" she suddenly exclaimed. Misaki followed her line of sight and almost cried out in shock.

Fuyuhiko, leader of the notorious Usami Group was making his steady way towards them with a large bouquet of white flowers in hand.

"Natsuko?" Fuyuhiko was surprised to see her there despite it being her workplace. Misaki, personally, was trying to edge away before he too was noticed. In the company of three Usami's was never good – even if one had technically married into the Usami name – his Usamones would surely lead to his downfall.

"Did you come to pick me up?" she smiled, eyeing the flowers like a child before a jar of candy, her hands had already moved forward a little in order to grasp them.

Fuyuhiko did not give her the bouquet. "No, actually I'm here for Haruhiko," he smiled encouragingly at his son, who gave him no more response than if he had smiled at a brick wall.

Nastuko flinched and quickly withdrew her hands, doing her best to hide the hurt caused by her husband's unthinking callousness. "Well, I suppose I can forgive you this one time. Just this one time though!" she laughed jokingly.

"All right, all right," he laughed as well, though Misaki could not help but notice a hint of nervousness trembling below his deep laughter. The thought made his frown; he could not imagine a nervous Fuyuhiko. However, the man quickly turned to his son, handing him the large bouquet of lilies. "Well, I've come to pick you up, Haruhiko. You know what day it is, don't you?"

Haruhiko nodded, his gaze fixed solemnly on the flowers. Standing besides Misaki, Natsuko's slender fingers curled into fists.

"I was leaving anyway," Natsuko shrugged, though her words came cutting and terse.

"Natsuko..." Fuyuhiko sighed; a worn out way of appeasement.

"It has nothing to do with me so I'm leaving!"

"Oh, Takahashi," suddenly noticing him, Fuyuhiko smiled.

"Misaki-kun was leaving too!" Natsuko grabbed his arm.

"What?" Misaki cried, but there was no time to protest. Before he knew it, Natsuko was already dragging him off of the site.

"Is it okay? I'm sure you could have gone with them if you asked," Misaki asked, glancing back at the car, which was driving away in the opposite direction.

"I don't _want _to go with them! They're going to see that woman...Haruhiko's mother," her voice softened at this. It sounded almost wistful, but that was not right, Misaki had always got the impression that Natsuko was far too strong a woman to ever be wistful.

"I'm sorry," he apologised for lack of anything better to say.

Natsuko was unmoved. "It has nothing to do with me. I can't be wasting my time visiting graves," she yawned as though to prove how little it interested her, though her yawn was too dainty to match her mood.

"Well, I suppose not," Misaki murmured, unsure of what else he should say. He did not like the sudden uncomfortable atmosphere that came with discussing the dead. He never knew what he was meant to say at such times.

"You're not allowed to drink yet, are you?" Natsuko asked curiously, solving their dilemma by forgetting all about graves and dead women.

"I will be soon," Misaki looked at her as if to ask why.

"That's too bad. I would have invited you otherwise," she shrugged.

"You're going to drink, Natsuko-san? It's only midday," he cautioned her.

"Ahh, I want to find a good man who will treat me well," she sighed, appearing in that moment to be ten years younger than her actual age. Suddenly, as if spotting Misaki for the first time, she pushed her face into his personal space, scrutinising him.

"Wh – What is it?"

"You look like you'll be a good man in a few years. If you're looking after Akihiko, I'm sure you know how to a spoil a person," Natsuko smiled insinuatingly.

Misaki felt himself blushing from the roots. "I – I - " he stuttered but Natsuko did not wait for him to finish.

"How annoying," she sighed, straightening, though she did not look angry at all. "I turn my head the other way for a few years and suddenly there's some brat who can take better care of Akihiko than his own mother." She turned her head away, feeling ashamed and stubborn.

"...I'm sorry?"

"Well, you're still young. Don't worry, I won't blame you if you get fed up and run away."

"It's not like that!" Misaki cried defensively. He was used to people saying how unreasonable Akihiko was but his mother as well? "Usagi-san is - " he paused. What did he want to say? What was Usagi-san? Generous? Kind? Unreasonable? Reckless? Usagi-san was Usagi-san. He was everything that made up Usagi-san and more.

However, before he could convey these fragmented thoughts to the woman, Natsuko had already grown bored of his company and bid him a swift goodbye, leaving him standing alone in the street with no one around to hear his answer.

"Usagi-san is..." he tried again, but he was not sure what he wanted to say.

Silently, Misaki hurried home. He wanted to see him straight away.

XX

"I want to see Usagi-san," Misaki murmured, remembering that day Natsuko had said such bizarre things to him. He knew he had made a mistake though, for Haruhiko caught his soft words. The look of hurt on his face, as hard as he tried to cover it up and as quickly as it passed, made Misaki flinch.

"If you - "

"Ah, no, no, it's not like that!" he cried. "I was just thinking about the past and..." he trailed away, realising that, no matter what he said, he would probably make Haruhiko feel worse anyway. He pursed his lips in a frown, wishing that he could somehow do something to make everything better.

Still sitting on the window seat where they had kissed, Haruhiko began to rise. Misaki felt his stomach dip at this sudden movement. It seemed symbolical, as though Haruhiko was going to leave him despite everything he had done for him and Misaki wondered if that was a good thing or not.

"This may just be my selfishness," Haruhiko said gravely, "but you've lived with Akihiko long enough to be used to the sort of thing. That's why I hope you won't think too badly of me if I ask you to choose."

"Choose?" Misaki blinked. "Choose what?"

"Will you go back to Akihiko or will you stay with me?" he demanded.

Misaki's face flushed. After what they had just done – he knew it was just a kiss – why was Haruhiko suddenly asking him such weird questions. Was not the fact that he was here, that he had left Akihiko to come here been enough of an answer?

No, he knew as well that it did not mean anything. Maybe a part of him was expecting to go back to Akihiko after a while. A part of him understood Haruhiko's uncertainty.

Misaki's face was burning when leaned towards Haruhiko. Even though he was older, he did not think he could ever get over his wall of embarrassment. However, he managed to push aside all his thoughts and bring his lips close to Haruhiko's, almost close enough to touch.

He paused.

He trembled.

He could not do it. Misaki opened his eyes and wished he never had for in that moment he caught a glimpse of Haruhiko's unguarded face, completely open and honest, ready to be hurt by Misaki's hesitation.

As much as that expression shot through his heart, Misaki could not do it. If was all fine if Haruhiko instigated it, but he could not bring himself to be the one to start the kiss. Why? His mind asked him Why did he accept Haruhiko's kiss if he had not been prepared to do that same?

"You and Usagi-san both," Misaki whispered. He smiled and felt like crying. He sighed and wanted to laugh. "You're both so hopeless, depending on someone like me! Someone like me who's more selfish than both of you put together."

Haruhiko was silent.

* * *


	6. How we breathe

XX

**Chapter six**

**- How we breathe -**

* * *

"I'm sorry," Haruhiko pulled away.

Misaki winced, feeling his cheeks burn with shame. "For what, Haruhiko-san?"

"For forcing my situation onto you."

"You didn't. It was my own decision!" he insisted, kicking himself for his own stupidity. Why could he never reciprocate? It was always the same, even with Akihiko, always being told that he was loved, always being on the receiving end of love.

"But I pressured you," Haruhiko sat hunched over himself, staring thoughtfully at the wall, and Misaki knew that he too was probably remembering.

"_Welcome back, Misaki."_

XX

"I'm sorry I couldn't pick you up," Akihiko apologised as Misaki pushed open the door, sighing with relief. He was home, finally, and although 'home' was not technically a safe place with a perverted novelist prowling around he was sure it was much better than being outside with a bunch of Usamis.

"It's okay. I keep saying that there's no need to drive me back all the time," he said, dropping his bag by the couch where Akihiko was busy typing. "By the way, what do you want for dinner?" he asked, making his way to the kitchen.

"Misaki," Akihiko replied without glancing away from the screen.

"I keep telling you to order proper food!" Misaki snapped, to which Akihiko persistently replied; "Misaki."

They ate together as usual. Their meal consisted of grilled fish and boiled meat with vegetables and, thankfully, not a trace of Misaki on the menu.

"Are you done? I'll wash up," Misaki rose to his feet when they had finished, collecting the empty plates. He managed to make it as far as the sink before being caught in Akihiko's arms as the man trapped him between the worktop and his body.

"Let me help," Akihiko smiled.

Misaki bristled. He could sense Akihiko's perverted intent coming a mile away. "If you help, it'll take twice as long to finish!" he grumbled, trying his best to avoid what was inevitably coming.

"It's okay, isn't it? Just let me help," Akihiko took the dishes from him, his hands on either side of Misaki slowly covering the china in soap suds.

"What's with you?" Misaki grumbled, hoping Akihiko's fascination with washing up liquid would hide the slight blush of his cheeks. "Don't you have a book to write?"

"I don't feel like it."

"So in other words, you're procrastinating!"

"It's okay, helping Misaki is important too," he replied matter-of-factly. He could always justify whatever he did, no matter what kind of illogical reasoning he employed.

As he soaked the china, a plate slipped from Akihiko's hands. Misaki's knees jerked as he bent to catch it, narrowly saving it from total destruction upon the hard floor.

"Like I said, you call this help?!" Misaki yelled. "You're so hopeless!"

Akihiko, however, took all the anger in his stride. If Misaki did not know better, he would say the man _enjoyed_ being scolded. For some reason, the idea made him shudder.

"Then it's a good thing I have you to take care of me," he smiled.

"Th - That's nothing to be proud of! Aren't you ashamed? Honestly, a grown man having to rely on - "

Misaki stopped short.

Isaka had said almost the same thing, as had Natsuko, even his brother had once questioned him about it. They all wondered how he could cope with someone like Akihiko, even when he insisted that it was not that bad, they would always look at him doubtfully, as if they could not believe his words.

Setting aside the plates, Misaki twisted his body around so that he was facing Akihiko, their chests almost touching. "...Usagi-san, what would you do if I wasn't here - Hey!" he cried as Akihiko suddenly pulled him towards him in a fierce hug.

"I'd die!" he cried with his face buried in Misaki's shoulder. He seemed not the least bit embarrassed about declaring it in front of the Suzuki population.

"W - What?" Misaki stuttered, blushing furiously.

"I'd die if Misaki left!" Akihiko insisted which, for some reason, made Misaki think of that he and Natsuko were not so different after all.

"D - Don't exaggerate! Who'd die over something like that?" Misaki lightly hit him over the head with a soapy spatula.

"I would!" Akihiko continued to persist, batting away Misaki's spatula-wielding hand as though it, not Misaki himself, was responsible for doubting him.

Misaki, however, only felt Akihiko's arms constricting him. "Stop it! Stop it, Usagi-san! Cut it out!" he tried in vain to pry the man off of him. Those arms were trapping him, he could not move, he could hardly breathe, he was sure that his heart could be heard echoing through the apartment, accompanied by the rhythm of his pounding blood. Finally, after struggling as hard as he could, he managed to yell; "Usagi-san, y – you're crushing me!"

"Misaki?"

The volume of his shout caused Akihiko to let go in shock. Misaki took the sudden opportunity to pushing him away, stepping back sharply as he did so.

Why did everyone say the same thing? Akihiko relies on you. He depends on you. He needs you. As flattering as it seemed, the thought did not cheer him up the slightest.

_Isn't it tiring? I won't blame you if you run away. How do you cope?_

Usagi-san was Usagi-san. Misaki had never once thought that it was a bother to be with him, even if he had to do all the chores. He wanted to stay here; it was not a bother at all.

_If Misaki left, I'd die. _

What kind of reasoning was that? People did not die of loneliness. It was...

"Ridiculous," he whispered.

"Misaki?"

"...Don't."

"What's wrong, Misaki?" Akihiko gripped his arms, traces of worry creasing his brow.

"Don't!" Misaki pushed his arms away. "Please don't rely on me so much!"

XX

When Misaki's eyes flew open he found himself staring at the blue ceiling of his bedroom. Groggily, he lifted himself onto his elbows, gazing around through bleary, sleep-filled eyes.

Had that all been a dream? No, as Misaki came to his senses, he could remember the awkward silence that had followed, the way he had fled to his room with embarrassment; he must have fallen asleep after that. Groaning, he hauled himself up and began to get dressed, although he did so far more slowly than usual, as though his body wanted to delay meeting Akihiko as much as possible.

However, there was breakfast to make and if he neglected his duties that would be far more suspiscious. Trundling down the stairs, he was surprised to see that Akihiko was already dressed and awake, though noticeably annoyed.

Misaki hoped Isaka, who was sitting opposite him, was the real reason.

"Yo," the man waved at him, ignoring Akihiko's darkening expression. Noticing the slight bags under Misaki's eyes, he asked; "What's wrong, kid, did someone keep you up all night?"

"I – Isaka-san!" Misaki blushed.

"Oh don't mind us; we were just leaving, right?" Isaka beamed at Akihiko, who returned his goodwill with a scowl.

Turning to Misaki, however, his expression softened a little. Though he still looked ragged, he seemed much gentler than before. "Misaki..." he breathed.

"H – Have a nice trip."

They stared at each other silently, one watching the other neutrally, the other red in the face and staring at the floor.

"...I'll be off."

Before he could gather the courage to stop him, Akihiko and Isaka were gone.

For what must have been the umpteenth time that week, Misaki wanted to kick himself for his stupidity. He was very nearing freak-out mode, ready to burst into impassioned ranting, when the door suddenly flew open again, causing him to jump.

Unfortunately, or perhaps it was fortunate, Misaki did not know anymore, it was Isaka , not Akihiko, who came back.

"Sorry, I forgot my briefcase," he said, reaching for the bag left on the couch. Yet even when he had retrieved it, he lingered by the doorway, looking back at the apartment. "Kid, you really had a fight with him, didn't you?" Isaka asked, though it must have been rhetorical for he already seemed to know the answer.

"How did you know?"

Isaka laughed. "I thought it would be obvious. Well, all lovers have their spats, and I can't be worried about everyone else, whether it's Akihiko or Haruhiko."

Misaki looked at him suddenly. "Haruhiko-san? Is something wrong with him?"

For once, Isaka looked mildly surprised. "Didn't you know? I was sure he'd tell you. Haruhiko's thinking about leaving the Usami Group. He wants to go independent. Of course, that would mean going in to competition with the Usami Group and, for a new business, that's nothing short of financial suicide but he's as stubborn as his brother," he sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Shouldn't you stop him?"

"Haruhiko will do whatever Haruhiko wants to do."

"But as his friend - "

"If you're so worried, why don't you go to him? I doubt that will make Akihiko happy, though."

Misaki frowned. Why was everyone so eager to point out the contention between the two brothers? "Why? This has nothing to do with Usagi-san, has it?" he insisted. Why could he not worry about anyone other than Akihiko? "Anyway, I promised Haruhiko-san that if something ever happened I would help him."

"You really want to see him," Isaka shook his head. He had the expression of a man who was torn between being amused and wanting to caution the boy.

"Well..." Misaki faltered, "I'm worried that's all. It can't hurt to just ask him how he's doing, can it?"

Moving away from the door, Isaka boldly picked up the receiver, punched in a series of numbers, and tossed it to Misaki. "That's what the telephone was invented for," he grinned. He had made his choice; no matter what came of it, he was determined to be only amused by the situation.

Misaki waited for Isaka to leave while he listened to the telephone ring in loops. Finally, there was a click of the phone being picked up and, a moment later, he heard Haruhiko's deadpan voice.

"Usami here."

"Ah, H – Haruhiko-san?" Misaki panicked. He had not prepared what he wanted to say. Would it seem odd to suddenly call? After all, they were not especially close and Misaki had always done his best to avoid the man. Why was he worrying now? Was it all because of a stupid promise that Haruhiko probably did not even expect him to keep? Something said in the heat of the moment? Was this awkward? Was this strange? Would Haruhiko think that he was being a bother?

"You? This is rare. Did you finally decide to become mine?" Haruhiko spoke again, probably growing impatient after a long stretch of silence.

Misaki jumped. He knew it! It had been a mistake to call him after all! "D – Don't be ridiculous! I just heard about what you were planning to do from Isaka-san and - "

"That man! He really is too nosey!" Misaki could hear him sigh in frustration. There were very few times that he had actually seen Haruhiko angry but Misaki did not have to imagine that he probably had a really scary look on his face right now.

However, he managed to calm down enough to answer normally; "I'm sorry. I guess I must be being nosey too. Haruhiko-san, I'm not going to tell you what to do, I mean, I don't really know much about the whole situation and stuff, but I was...worried."

"Oh, that reminds me; you made a promise didn't you?" Haruhiko said absently. So he had forgotten after all.

Misaki felt like sighing. He was a little disappointed, was he really that hard to take seriously?

"Do you remember?" Haruhiko asked.

"Y – Yes," he nodded.

There was a thoughtful pause. Silence filled the phone line, trembling slightly as though in anticipation.

Haruhiko spoke again, deadpan as always, oddly grave.

"Your promise...maybe now is a good time to fulfil it."

XX

Misaki tilted his head back so that he could star at the ceiling. The sight of fresh paint was welcoming, as though it had always been pure white and simple.

"Don't you remember? You really are too kind to say no to someone in need," Haruhiko sighed, confirming that he had indeed been thinking about the same things as Misaki. He stood up, making his slow way to the door. "You can go back to my brother now."

Misaki stared at his back in shock. "If I do that, if I just leave you now that would make me feel even worse!"

"Then what do you want to do?" Haruhiko asked, refusing to turn around and look at him.

Misaki felt his heart being dragged through the mud. Stupid, idiotic, childish, unreasonable; how could he criticise the brothers when he could be just like them? Why was it, the more real the feeling, the harder it was to express?

"I want to see Usagi-san but I also don't want to leave you, Haruhiko-san."

"That's asking for a little too much."

"I know."

This time, Haruhiko turned around. His normally expressionless face had taken on a sombre look. "If you had to decide between one of the other, which would you choose?"

Misaki got to his feet. Without knowing it, he had asked the one question Misaki had never wanted to answer.

"I'll stay here, Haruhiko-san. I promised, didn't I?" He knew he was avoiding the question. He wanted to avoid it for as long as possible, for the rest of his life if he could.

"The promise again," Haruhiko sighed. "I didn't think you would take it so seriously. Never mind. It's foolish to do something all for the sake of some stupid promise."

"My brother always told me that a promise is a promise no matter how small it is," Misaki insisted.

Haruhiko's expression became dark. His fists clenched, and his body stiffened just as it had that day he yelled at Misaki at the hotel. "You...you don't get it do you?" Haruhiko growled dangerously. Misaki stepped back. "Do you think I'm happy knowing the only reason that you're staying is because of a half-hearted promise?!" he yelled. "That you would never have come if you had never said anything back then?"

Misaki backed away. It seemed, lately, all he could ever do was hurt people. Akihiko, Haruhiko, even Natsuko to some extent, he was always causing other people pain with his inconsideration. Misaki turned away, feeling tears threaten to fall if he continued to look at Haruhiko's face. What was wrong with him? Why was he always so – so –

The heavy touch of Haruhiko's hands on his shoulders startled him. He did not turn around, nor did Haruhiko insist on him facing him. Misaki felt the man's arms wrap around his body, enveloping him in warmth.

"I..." Misaki's head was swimming. In that moment, his memories had decided to bombard his brain relentlessly, memories not just of Haruhiko but Akihiko as well. Rooms for of bears, snow, strawberries, the aquarium, cherries, hot springs, Ferris wheels, kisses, hugs, I love you....I love you....

_It's okay, I love you, Usagi-san,_ he had said.

In the darkness, surrounded with lights: _It's okay, I love you, Usagi-san._

In the cold, drifting higher into the sky: _It's okay, I love you Usagi-san_.

Bathed in a changing rainbow, far above the traffic flowing below: _It's okay, I love you Usagi-san. _

"It's okay," Misaki said, folding his hands over Haruhiko's larger ones, "I love you, Haruhiko-san."

* * *

Wait! Wait for it! Don't rule out Akihiko yet! He's still in the running in this game. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and please look forward to the next!


	7. Burning Bridges

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Sorry for the wait.

* * *

**Chapter seven**

**- Burning bridges -**

XX

Misaki often wondered if his short time on the earth would be rendered even shorter by anxiety. He wondered if it was possible to worry yourself to death like those cases he heard about people laughing until they died or crying so much that they could not breathe.

Despite moving in with Haruhiko, he still had a job to do and lessons to attend. Haruhiko's new house was further from the university than Akihiko's penthouse had been, forcing him to catch the morning bus almost every day.

It was on such a bus, still mulling over with red-faced embarrassment, but not regret, his confession to Haruhiko that his thoughts involuntarily drifted to what the other Usami brother was doing. An attempt to shake his thoughts off by shaking his head quickly proved a futile effort.

He liked Haruhiko a lot, Misaki blushed just remembering their conversation, he wanted to stay with Haruhiko no matter what, but he could not forget about Akihiko so easily. The man was useless by himself. He could not even boil an egg properly. What was he doing? Surely he would not starve to death.

Misaki stiffened at the thought of accidentally being the cause of someone's death. Convincing himself that he was overreacting, he sighed. The most probable cause of death in_ his_ case would definitely be stress. That was what he thought when he descended from the bus as a red sports car was driving past.

He stopped dead. As did the sports car. He gulped. The sports car did not. Surely it could not be...

The door swung open with force, and Akihiko climbed out.

Stress. It would definitely be the stress. The stress would kill him and the Usami brothers would hammer the nails into the coffin!

Misaki turned to flee but realised, before he could take a step, what a futile effort that would be.

"Misaki?" Akihiko looked as though he could hardly believe his eyes. "Misaki!"

"U – Usagi-san!" Misaki stammered, turning on his heel, but he knew that he could not escape. Before he could even move, Akihiko was striding towards him, his arms wrapping around him, pulling him into a fierce hug.

"Let go, Usagi-san! I – I can't breathe! You're crushing me, Usagi-san!" Misaki cried, overwhelmed by the depth of the man's feelings. Did he really miss him that much? Surely it had not been true when Akihiko had said that he would die. He was still alive now, wasn't he?

Akihiko stopped hugging him but he did not let go. Pushing him away so that he could look at his face, he continued to grip Misaki's shoulders. "Did he do anything to you?" he demanded angrily.

"What?" Misaki blushed, thinking about the kisses they had shared.

"Did that guy do anything to you?" he repeated, impatient.

"N- No! Nothing happened! Don't start imagining things! Besides, it's my business what I do and don't do. You don't own me!" Misaki snapped.

Akihiko flinched. A look of hurt passed over his face, causing Misaki's heart to tremble. "I love you," he breathed into Misaki's shoulder as he pulled him into another hug, gentler, fragile even, yet just as desperate.

"What - " Misaki began.

"Come back! Why are you living with that guy in the first place?" Akihiko cried.

"That's because - "

"Come back with me!"

"Stop it Usagi-san!" he tried to push him away but Akihiko held on relentlessly.

"Come back!"

"Usagi-san!"

"If I did something wrong, I'll apologise! I'll say I'm sorry a thousand times!"

"Usagi-san!" Misaki finally managed to free himself, stumbling and almost falling onto the ground.

"_Watch it!"_

XX

"Ah! Ah, I – I'm sorry, Usagi-san!" Misaki hurriedly reached for a cloth to mop of the hot soup he had spilt over the work surface. Akihiko, however, intercepted his hand by grabbing his wrist, bringing it up to his face for inspection.

"Never mind that, are you okay? You didn't get hurt did you?" he asked worriedly.

His concern touched Misaki. Ever since he had returned from the publishing house, they had remained silent, not wishing to talk in case it brought up their earlier argument. Misaki felt comforted by Akihiko's concern yet, at the same time, a stab of guilt throbbed in his chest. He knew it was ridiculous to feel that way; all he had done was call Haruhiko, it was not as if he had slept with the man or something, but even so that same secrecy felt just as bad.

"It's just a minor...burn..."

Akihiko put the hurt finger in his mouth, sucking it gently. "Is that better?"

"Cut it out, Usagi-san! That's gross!" Misaki quickly withdrew his hand.

Akihiko chuckled. "Why are you still so shy? Especially after all the things we've shared - "

"You don't have to remind me about it!" he pushed him away, busying himself with cutting carrots so that Akihiko could not see him blush.

As the rhythmic sound of chopping began to lull his thoughts away, they began to wander towards the phone call he had had with Haruhiko and the promise that he had been asked to keep.

"S – Say, Usagi-san, did you hear about Haruhiko-san going independent?" Misaki asked cautiously, knowing well that any mention of his brother was sure to be hazardous if not handles carefully.

"No, why would I care what he does," Akihiko frowned.

"So it doesn't worry you?"

"Not one bit!" he snorted.

"He's probably going to have it tough though. Someone should be there for him," Misaki persisted.

"Why?" Akihiko muttered. Misaki looked at him, confused, but Akihiko had that petulant look on his face. "Why is it that, these days, all you ever talk about is him?"

"D – Do I?" Misaki stammered. He had slipped up. He just could not handle the subject of Haruhiko without making one of them angry.

Akihiko drew close to him, cupping his cheek in his hand. "Do you know how that makes me feel, hearing you go on about another man? Do you know," his voice dropped into a husky whisper, "what that makes me want to do to you?"

"P – Pervert!" Misaki slapped away his wandering hand.

"Misaki," Akihiko withdrew; his expression sombre. For some reason, it scared him a little to look at it; this was a final warning. "Don't talk about him again."

XX

"Is there something wrong?" Haruhiko looked up from his paperwork as Misaki came flying through the door.

"I..." Stopping in his tracks, Misaki hesitated. What should he say? "Actually, I saw Usagi-san just now."

"That's right. Will you return to him after all of this?" Haruhiko looked away sourly, not looking the least surprised.

Misaki felt a small wave of annoyance flow through him. Had all that he had done been for nothing if Haruhiko was still insisting that he would return? He wanted to ask if he really was that hard to take seriously. He wanted to shout at him; 'please don't decide my own feelings for me.' Misaki did neither. He stood silently whilst Haruhiko talked.

"I know that you think that it's just my way of getting petty revenge on my brother by keeping you here but I would prefer it if you stayed with me. Even if my brother had no interest in you, I would want you to stay with me," Haruhiko spoke, and with every word, Misaki felt even more disgruntled. Taking him annoyance as doubt, Haruhiko slid over to him, cupping his face in his hands. "What's wrong? Am I so unreliable that you can't believe what I say?"

"That's not it," Misaki murmured, choking back the things he really wanted to say. "That's not it, Haruhiko-san."

"Stay here," Haruhiko insisted. "You love me don't you?"

Misaki bushed. "I – I do," he stuttered, forcing the words out. "But, right now, I'm being really selfish and greedy. To tell the truth, I want to be here for both you and Usagi-san. Both of you are very important people to me, I can't just shut one of you out of my life completely but that's wrong isn't it? Like trying to have your cake and eat it too."

Misaki closed his eyes. He told Haruhiko that he loved him and he believed that that had not been a lie, but, to be honest, Akihiko was still also a very important person to him. Was he not allowed to love both? Or, if he could not chose between either, did that mean that he could not love either?

"We've put you in quite a difficult situation, haven't we?" Haruhiko sighed. It seemed that sighing was all he had been doing lately.

"It's not your fault. Or Usagi-san's."

"It would have been better if one of us had never been born," Haruhiko muttered, turning back to his mountain of paperwork.

"What?" Misaki stared at him, hardly believing that he could say such a thing. He opened his mouth to protest but Haruhiko beat him to it.

"I suppose Akihiko never told you this. About his family, I mean."

"I always wanted to know but..." Misaki trailed away, trying to remember all the times he had tried to learn about Akihiko without seeming too intrusive.

Haruhiko folded his hands together, resting his thin on top of them with a pensive expression. Misaki took a seat opposite him, respectfully silent in the presence of man who is doing his best to remember something he would rather forget.

"My mother was always frail. She was the worse when my....my father had to travel to England every few months," he spoke the word 'father' with a grimace. "I grew up watching her get weaker and weaker. She was a very strong woman, and I admired her...but there was nothing I could do for her. In the end, she became so weak that she would only smile for my father. It was only when he was around that she would smile. Never for me."

His usually level voice began to waver slightly. It was hardly enough for the casual observer to notice but Misaki, listening intently, could hear the faint traces of anger forming in his voice, which Haruhiko tried bravely to suppress.

"It's okay! You don't have to say anything is you don't want to!" Misaki cried. Haruhiko ignored him.

"Then, after her death, he went to England again...and came back with a woman and child. His child. My mother had not even been dead and buried for a month before he moved another woman into the house! And a child? All this time, he had had another child in England?" his voice tilted with incredulity, lowering into indignation.

"Haruhiko-san," Misaki tried to soothe him.

"Even though she loved him, even though she would only smile for him, even though she kept smiling for his sake, he had a child with someone else! He brought someone else into the house!"

"Haruhiko-san."

"He didn't even have the decency to wait before bringing some foreign woman into the house where my mother had died!"

"Haruhiko-san!" Misaki cried, louder this time, startling Haruhiko from his tirade.

"...I...I'm sorry," Haruhiko lifted his hands to his face. A faint blushed of embarrassment stained his cheeks. Misaki stared at it as though it were the ninth wonder of the world. It was certainly the ninth wonder of Haruhiko; he had never imagined the man could blush; he just did not seem physically capable of it.

"I understand how you must have felt, Haruhiko-san, but taking it out on Usagi-san isn't really fair. It wasn't his fault," he said softly, using the same soothing tone he did whenever Akihiko was feeling disheartened.

"When he came into the house, all the responsibilities of the Usami Group were shoved on to me. He got to play the privileged child whilst I was forced to give up my dreams in order to take over the responsibilities of the household. You can't say that is not unfair," he replied, somewhat petulantly.

"No," Misaki agreed, "but Usagi-san had it tough too; having to move to another country so suddenly, being in that house all alone."

A flicker of annoyance for Misaki's sympathy sparked across his face. "What do you - "

"Haruhiko-san too," Misaki continued. "You must have had it hard as well."

Haruhiko stared at him as though he had just announced that he could fly. His shock gave way to gentleness though, as he abandoned his paperwork to draw closer to Misaki's side.

Misaki stiffened, unsure of what he was going to do. Were it Akihiko, he would have already been able to guess what would happen next, but with Haruhiko he was never quite sure. The result, however, was not far different from what he would expect from Akihiko. Leaning down, Haruhiko kissed him, lightly at first, but then harder.

Misaki allowed the kiss to pass without much protest. His heart only began to leap up in panic when Haruhiko's hands began to wander far further down, cupping his crotch.

"Haru – Wh – What are you doing?" he pushed him away.

Haruhiko did not respond. Reaching for Misaki's shirt, he swiftly unbuttoned the front, tracing s finger down the boy's chest. His weight shifted, pushing Misaki against the table, unzipping his jeans in the process.

Misaki flushed. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply. "Usag – "

He stopped himself just in time.

Haruhiko pressed himself closer, their noses almost touching. His fist clenched around Misaki's wrist almost painfully. "What is it?" he asked, but there was danger in his voice, an aggressiveness Misaki had not experienced before.

Misaki blushed and stuttered. He should not be afraid of Haruhiko. Wasn't Haruhiko very kind after all?

"U - Usa – Usamis sure are rough," he smiled weakly.

Haruhiko smiled. "I'm sure you'll find that older brothers can be much rougher."

* * *

I was going to go into 'implied sex' mode but that would have made this long chapter even longer. Maybe next chapter, eh? ^^


	8. Divide and conquer

* * *

**Chapter eight**

**- Divide and conquer -**

XX

As the sound of the doorbell rang for the fifth time in a row, Misaki scrambled out of bed to answer it, pulling on a spare T-shirt and a pair of jeans, which happened to be lying on the floor, whilst he hobbled towards the door.

"I'll get it!" he cried, struggling in a twist of clothes.

Finally, conquering the sleeves of his T-shirt, he grabbed the handle and shoved the door open.

"Good morning!"

Misaki's body froze.

Smiling happily at him behind a pair of darkened sunglasses, Usami Fuyuhiko stood bearing a bouquet of flowers and an odd, wooden carving of a bear.

"F – Fuyuhiko-san!" Misaki surreptitiously glanced over his shoulder for a glance of Haruhiko. Much to his dismay, he found him standing just over his shoulder, frowning at his father with all his might.

"What do you want?" Haruhiko asked, his mouth creasing into a scowl.

"Don't be like that, I just came to pay you a visit. Can't I do that?" he asked innocently. Squeezing past Misaki, he let himself into the house, ignoring his son's hostility. "So you set up your own business? How troublesome!" he sighed then, turning his hard gaze to Misaki, muttered; "You really are very influential, aren't you?"

Misaki opened his mouth to speak but Haruhiko silenced him by holding his arm out in front of Misaki, creating a protective barrier between him and Fuyuhiko. "What are you insinuating? This is something I was planning to do a long time ago."

"You'll be going into direct competition with Natsuko."

"I'm aware of that."

Fuyuhiko regarded his son as though he were a puzzle which happened to be missing a piece. No matter how he tilted his head, he could just not make sense of it. "Why would you ever want to leave the Usami Group? I was offering you success, security..."

"But not love," Haruhiko replied, and Misaki's cheeks coloured to hear him speak of love in such a blunt, unromantic way. He supposed that that was just like Haruhiko though. "I felt no love of architecture when I was working for that woman," he elaborated, waving his hand to one side.

"So you can speak about love now. That's not like you, Haruhiko," Fuyuhiko chuckled.

Haruhiko's gaze narrowed. "You've been too busy to know what I'm like. Ever since you brought Akihiko into the house, you shouldered me with the burden of the family and left it at that."

Fuyuhiko sighed. For some reason, Misaki could not help but feel a little sympathetic. He remembered when they had first met on the train, how Fuyuhiko had told him his troubles and regrets.

He made his way into the front room. Though it was still in the process of being furnished, Fuyuhiko took a place on the window seat, on the very place Misaki had sat whilst Haruhiko had kissed him. The thought made Misaki blush but, thankfully, Fuyuhiko had no way of guessing what lay in his mind.

"That was my fault. I've tried to make amends but you never talk to me. At the time, I was upset. I wanted to forget about the pain of your mother as soon as possible," he said gravely, while Misaki turned all shades of red.

Haruhiko shook his head in disbelief. This was something they had obviously never talked about, something buried for years on end.

"No, you already had a woman before she died and you did not even wait before moving her in! Did you ever really love my mother?" he demanded.

"I did," his father replied. The firmness of his statement left no room for argument, no tolerance for protest. "You may challenge me all you want, but I will not allow you to challenge me on that fact."

Unable to say anything in retaliation, Haruhiko turned away in anger, storming out of the room.

"H – Haruhiko-san! I'm sorry! Please, don't take it the wrong way," Misaki apologised to Fuyuhiko.

"You..." Fuyuhiko looked at him gravely. "I think it would be best if you stopped appearing before me. Even though I know none of this is your fault, I might end up blaming everything on you. I'm that kind of person after all."

"That's not true!" Misaki shook his head adamantly. His determination caused Fuyuhiko to look at him in surprise. "Fuyuhiko-san is also very kind! I know that because Usagi-san and Haruhiko-san are very kind too so, even if they were lonely, they must have been raised with some kindness."

"I don't know if I had anything to do with raising anyone," Fuyuhiko muttered, hints of weariness and regret flowing through his voice. All his pensiveness seemed to evaporate however when he looked at Misaki. "By the way, why did you leave Akihiko?" he asked, somewhat accusingly.

"I haven't given up!" he cried. "It's like I told you at the hot springs, I will give one hundred percent!"

XX

"One hundred percent?" Haruhiko looked only confused as he accepted the wrapped bento box from Misaki's hands.

"Yes, one hundred percent, Haruhiko-san!" he blushed. What was he doing saying such cheesy lines. Surely this was all because of Akihiko's influence.

Misaki felt like a child. Perhaps cooking was the only thing he was good at and he thought he could at least make sure Haruhiko was eating properly, as unimportant as that seemed, but even so coming around with a pre-made lunch...that was something only love-struck girls did, right?

He shook his head. Those thoughts were ridiculous! True, he had gone to great lengths to sneak out of the house without Akihiko questioning him and he had to hide the fact that he was cooking lunch by getting up at an ungodly hour, but those were just normal things that one did for a friend in need , right? Besides, he had no intention of hurting Akihiko in any way either.

"How foolish. If you try to support both of us that much, you'll just end up worn out," Haruhiko looked at the brightly coloured bento box as though it were his tomb.

"You don't know that if you don't try!" Misaki contended, worried by his solemnity.

Haruhiko lifted the box. "Thank you for this, I do...appreciate it," he said, albeit awkwardly. He was obviously not used to thanking anyone, at least not in any way other than as a useless formality. His uncomfortable sincerity was warming, and prompted Misaki to ask;

"Will you be okay, Haruhiko-san?"

Haruhiko smiled half-heartedly. "If you're that worried, why don't you come and live with me?"

"Ah! Thanks for the offer but I'm fine," Misaki waved his hands in front of his face, preparing himself to run full speed in case anything happened. He had almost forgotten that he was dealing with a member of the Usami family and they were notorious for the unpredictability.

"I know, I was talking about myself," Haruhiko clarified. His smile reminded Misaki of a cat cornering a mouse. Did that make him the mouse? "I'm not fine, that's why I need you."

"N – Need?" Misaki paled at the sound of those words. Need. Depend. Had he become allergic to them?

"I need you far more than my brother does," Haruhiko insisted.

"Th – That's not fair, Haruhiko-san."

"It's the truth."

"H – Haruhiko-san!" Misaki protested. He wondered why something like that could make his heart beat faster. It was not as if he had had his love declared to him.

Haruhiko shook his head, leaning over slightly so that he could face Misaki at equal height. "Don't you think you're the one being unfair?" he whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"You say that you won't leave him yet you're helping me. Isn't that unfair for the both of us?"

Misaki frowned in confusion. "What does one thing have to do with the other?" he asked hotly.

Haruhiko shook his head. Misaki was tired of seeing people do that. "It seems you don't understand my brother's feelings at all. Or mine for that matter," he said but did not explain the meaning behind them.

Misaki was not sure what Haruhiko meant by those words and, only when he thought back on them, he probably sold have asked. However, it would just have to become another regret as, before he could work up the courage to ask, Haruhiko had closed the door on him.

Misaki returned to the penthouse, sighing with fatigue. For some reason, dealing with the older Usami brother was always a tiring experience.

The moment he entered, however, he had no time to rest. Akihiko's hand slammed against the wall just above his shoulder. "Where were you?" he glowered, giving Misaki the full force of his 'death waves'.

"N – Nowhere!" Misaki jumped. This was bad. This was definitely bad.

Akihiko's brow furrowed. "Don't lie. You were seeing him weren't you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You snuck out to see him?" he asked, his voice becoming dangerously low.

"I didn't _sneak _anywhere!" Misaki cried, resisting the use of such a underhanded word.

Akihiko relaxed but, contrary to Misaki's hopes, his suspicions had not elevated. He sighed wearily. "Misaki, I put it all down to your kindness. You're just that sort of person who cares for other people, but this is too much," he shook his head, causing a stab of guilt to attack Misaki's heart. "Don't be so kind, Misaki. Not to him. Not to that guy."

Misaki opened his mouth to protest. Why shouldn't he be kind? Wasn't it good to be good to others? Akihiko did not own him. He could do what he wanted, couldn't he?

Yet, looking at his hurt expression, Misaki had no defence.

XX

"One hundred percent?" Haruhiko appeared over Misaki's shoulder.

"H – Haruhiko-san? You were listening?" he jumped back, embarrassed.

Haruhiko turned his gaze to the ceiling. "It feels nostalgic," he said, almost wistfully.

Misaki felt a heavy hand upon his shoulder, weighing down his feelings as well. "It feels like the end of something," he muttered. He had only just realised that, the last time he had said those words, he had left Akihiko.

* * *

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Please look forward to the next chapter!


	9. Homing instincts

Hello! I apologise for the extremely long wait but I'm back with another chapter. Thanks to everyone who took part in the poll. I'm doing my best with a 'Walking amongst the butterflies' sequel but since this came second I thought I would update this first.

* * *

**Chapter nine**

**- Homing instincts -**

XX

"Are you going to work today, Haruhiko-san?" Misaki asked, as Haruhiko stumbled into the kitchen, grabbing his briefcase and a piece of toast at the same time. He almost wanted to laugh at the sight of Haruhiko, a grown man in a business suit, replaying the antics one would normally associate with a high school student late for his first class.

"I have to," his words were muffled by the toast as he busied his hands with adjusting the collar of his suit.

"Have a good trip," Misaki smiled.

"...I'm off," Haruhiko replied, somewhat awkwardly. He had obviously never been in the position to go through the normal conventions of greeting and saying goodbye before.

"Oh, Haruhiko-san!" Misaki caught him just as he stepped outside. He tentatively held up a small box wrapped up in a blue cloth. "Lunch," he explained sheepishly, feeling much like an obedient housewife bidding her husband farewell.

Haruhiko stared at it as if he did not know what it was. For a moment, Misaki feared that his carefully prepared meal would be rejected but, at length, he lifted his hands to accept it, holding it was though he had received the holy grail of gifts. "...Thank you," Haruhiko murmured, somewhat stupefied.

It took Misaki all his might not to blush with pleasure. Surely if Haruhiko knew what a sincere expression he was wearing at the moment, he would do his best not just to wipe it from his face but from the very surface of the earth.

Hardly five minutes had passed since Haruhiko's departure – Misaki had no classes and was about to tackle the dirty dishes – when the doorbell rang again. Expecting it to be Haruhiko, who had probably forgotten something important at home, Misaki opened the door all the way.

Only to see Isaka's cheerful grin.

"Hey there!" the man waved at him. For once Asahina was not accompanying him. It was rather odd to see the man alone, Misaki had grown so used to seeing the two together that he had unwittingly begun thinking of Isaka's assistant as some sort of shadow. A smarter, much more reasonable shadow.

"I – Isaka-san?" Misaki blinked in surprise. "What are you here for? Haruhiko-san just left - "

"How about a drive?" Isaka interrupted him.

This only served to confuse Misaki further. A drive? But if he had not come for Haruhiko then that meant that he wanted to go for a drive with...him? "With me? Where? What for?"

"So many questions! Young people sure are inquisitive these days, aren't they?" Isaka laughed. "Actually, I just wanted to see if I was still winning."

Misaki's inquisitiveness was replaced with discontent. Ah, the game. The stupid game. If this were sports, he would be approximately losing three-nil by now.

"This really is a game to you, Isaka-san," he muttered, eyeing the man somewhat sceptically.

Ignoring Misaki's cynical comment, Isaka took the liberty of glancing at the exterior of the house. It was still new and the brick work had not yet seen the worst of weather, neither had the paint begun to peel or fade. He whistled under his breath.

"So how is life with the infamous Haruhiko-san? As unbearable as life with the great Usami-sensei?"

Though he knew Isaka was only half serious, Misaki opened his mouth to defend both of the brothers but he was not sure which one to defend first, therefore he settled for muttering somewhat indignantly; "If Isaka-san is going to tease me, I have chores to do."

"Haruhiko can't cook worth a damn either," the man continued.

"Have you seen Usagi-san lately?" Misaki suddenly asked. The abruptness of his question had been incited by a sudden flood of memories; all including some sort of accident in the kitchen whenever Akihiko tried to cook. He wondered somewhat guiltily how the man was faring now. He hoped that he was eating properly at least.

"Worried about him?" Isaka read his mind.

"A - A little," he embarrassingly admitted.

"Tell you what; I'll take you somewhere nice to forget about your troubles. My treat!" Isaka offered a small smile that could have fooled the devil.

Misaki, however, being well versed in 'The Ways of Isaka', frowned apprehensively at his offer. "No offense, Isaka-san, but when you're this nice, it's sort of suspicious."

Yet despite Misaki absolute assurance that Isaka was probably planning to do more than just 'treat him' he somehow found himself bundled up into the back seat of the man's car as Isaka hummed whilst he drove. Why could he never say no to anyone?

Misaki ran a finger along the strap of the seatbelt. He had been in Isaka's car only a few times before and neither of those occasions had been pleasant. In fact, the very first time he had been given a ride in the car was because –

It was because -

"_Misaki! The phone's ringing!"_

XX

"I'll get it!" Misaki cried, making a straight dash for the phone. Picking it up, a crashing wave of relief swept over him. Thank God he had been the one to pick it up. If it had been Akihik...well, he just did not want to deal with an angry Akihiko any more than necessary.

Misaki sighed at the sound of that familiar voice; that blunt, monotone voice that so often incited awkwardness, that clumsy voice which expression clumsy emotions like a child who did not know how to say what he meant.

"Haruhiko-san," he whispered, checking the bottom floor for signs of Akihiko.

"You haven't been visiting me lately. I thought that perhaps something was wrong," Haruhiko's voice on the other end sounded almost accusatory.

Misaki frowned with confusion. "No, nothing really. Why? Is there something wrong?"

"It's Akihiko, isn't it?"

His frown deepened.

"I don't want to hurt him," he said with a directness that could almost rival the great Usamis.

"Why?" Haruhiko asked brusquely.

"How can you ask me that?" Misaki almost cried but, remembering that Akihiko was in and not wanting to attract any attention, he settled for a low hiss.

"So, in order not to hurt him, you'll hurt yourself. You'll compromise your freedom for him?"

"I didn't think you felt so strongly about it," he said, slightly annoyed that everyone was insinuating that being anywhere near Akihiko was bound to be a burden. If he had not liked it he could have left ages ago...couldn't he?

"Same to you," Haruhiko paused. There was such silence that for a moment Misaki thought the line had cut out, then; "...I want to see you," he said awkwardly, unused to thinking such things, much less _saying them. _

"What?"

"Can't you come to see me?" Haruhiko asked. Maybe it was simply a bad signal but he sounded almost... imploring. Ah, but that was impossible, Misaki shook his head of such thoughts. Haruhiko did not have to go to such lengths. Haruhiko always asked for everything in blunt monotone.

"That's..." Misaki fumbled for an appropriate excuse; one which was plausible and would not offend either of them. "I can't, I - "

"I'll send Isaka around. He owes me a favour. You can pretend you're doing part time work for the agency again."

"Eh? No, wait, Haruhiko-san! Haru - "

It was no good protesting. Haruhiko had already hung up. Miskai wanted to groan in frustration. Why did Usami's just do whatever the hell they wanted? Was it a genetic trait?

Calming down somewhat, he turned to look at the closed door where Akihiko had shut himself up to do his work.

Isaka was coming around soon.

XX

Misaki was shaken from his reminiscence when the car pulled over on a fairly busy street.

Isaka led him into a small bar almost hidden between two far larger and more imposing clothes boutiques. The bar had the air or tiny tavern straight out of some cheap fantasy film. The glasses were tinted to prevent spying and, upon seeing the interior, Misaki noticed that both the walls and floors were rough timber, without a lick of paint or even a good varnishing. It was as if someone had tied tree trunks together and left it at that.

"I'm underage," he recoiled at the sharp stench of ale.

"There are other things you can buy besides alcohol," Isaka strolled in, laughing at his foolishness. Reluctantly, Misaki followed him to a table.

In reality, the bar was not as shady as he had first assumed. Misaki supposed that the bar was left in such a raw state to attract customers who licked the novelty of it. The alcohol was strong but the dim lights cast a warm glow and the quiet murmur of voices was quite pleasant to listen to.

Sinking warmly into his cushioned chair, Misaki decided he had probably judged Isaka too harshly. As awkward as he could be some times, he was sure that the man must be rather generous to go to such lengths for him. He had even allowed him to spend the night after –

He shook his head. Actually, he did not want to think about that. If he did, he would remember Akihiko and Isaka's ridiculous game, and then he would be back to suspecting Isaka of foul play.

"Thank you, Isaka-san," he managed to say despite his thoughts. "You're trying to make me feel better, aren't you?"

"Nope, not at all," Isaka replied with cheerful bluntness. Misaki was two inches close to slamming his own head against the table.

"You don't have to disagree that bluntly!"

Isaka laughed. "Like I said, Haruhiko's my friend, and as hard-headed and stubborn as he is I'm cheering for his happiness."

"More than Usagi-san's?" Misaki asked, surprised. Isaka might be Haruhiko's friend but he was also Akihiko's editor. In fact, Misaki could distinctly remember Isaka once telling him that he would do anything to make sure Akihiko's work was not affected.

Isaka was slightly taken aback at this. He had obviously not been expecting suh a question. He smiled, though his laughter becoming slightly nervous. "Don't ask me difficult questions," he said and rose to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

"Restroom. Want to come with me?" Isaka jokingly offered.

"No thank you!" he snapped at Isaka's retreating back.

Misaki counted exactly five minutes and thirty seconds since Isaka had gone. Honestly, how long could someone take in the bathroom? He was just about to wonder if Isaka had actually slipped out of a window and left him with the bill of one beer and a soda when a thin shadow was cast over him.

He looked up, surprised, if not astounded, to see Natsuko, whose glamorous figure really did not suit such a dimly lit bar, staring down at him.

"Oh? Misaki-kun!"

At least she remembered his name this time.

"Oh, so you're not here with Akihiko?" Natsuko did not wait to be invited before she took a seat at his table, signalling a bartender to bring her cocktail to her current table.

"What are you doing here, Natsuko-san?" Misaki smiled, attempting to make polite conversation. What Haruhiko had told him about his family still had not left him but he could not help feeling just a little sorry for Natsuko as well. It seemed everyone had somehow gotten the short end if the stick in their whole, messed up, family affair.

"I was looking for a man," Natsuko slurred, looking at Misaki a little too demurely for his liking. "Finding a good man is hard."

"B – But you're married, Natsuko-san," Misaki tried to remind her.

"In name only," she spat. "That man doesn't love me! He still loves that dead woman – Haruhiko's mother. Even when he knows that I play around with all sorts of men, he doesn't give a damn. I'd even say he feels relieved about it!"

Misaki looked at her sympathetically. "Have you talked to Fuyuhiko-san about it?" he asked.

Natsuko snorted. "What would I say? Darling, I know we've been married for many years now but tell me, honestly, you still love that corpse of a woman lying ten feet under, don't you?"

"But – but if you don't say anything they how will anyone know that you're upset?" he tried to reason with her, though he feared that his words were simply bouncing off of the barrier of her intoxicated mind.

"I spent all that time chasing after him so that he would love me, or at least acknowledge me..."

"Are you drunk?"

"I even neglected my own son in my wild attempts to get him to look at me," she continued, siking her head into her arms like a sleepy child. This impression was only enhanced by effects of alcohol brought, which made her cheeks glow red. "Then, before I knew it, Akihiko was already grown up. A useless human being just like his mama," she smiled somewhat bitterly.

"Natsuko-san..." Misaki was unsure of what to say. "I...I'll look after Usagi-san. Please don't worry about it, I will look after Usagi-san so for you!"

"Idiot!" Natsuko was suddenly revived again. "Do you think you can do everything alone? I bet you're the type who never asks anyone for anything!"

Misaki jumped back in fear. The Usamis were a scary family! Yet, in truth, he was glad that Natuko had not taken him too seriously. He had left Akihiko after all. How could he help someone he had already once abandoned?

He winced at his own thoughts and yet...yet he still wanted to do something for Akihiko. He hated thinking that he might have possibly hurt the man, or that he had burdened him by leaving. Who would cook and clean? Who would make sure he met his deadlines?

Although his thoughts were interrupted by the reappearance of Isaka and, curiously, Asahina too – when had that man come in? – Misaki wondered if just a small, brief visit to the old penthouse would do any harm.

* * *

Once again, apologies for the long wait. I'm glad to have such patient reviewers!


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